


Well Met Steel

by Shadow_Chaser



Series: BBC Robin Hood Alternate Season 2 [1]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Alternate Universe, BAMF Crusader!Robin, F/M, Gen, Robin's Crusading past is haunting him, Talking about Robin's past, alternate season 2, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-21
Updated: 2007-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:47:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_Chaser/pseuds/Shadow_Chaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A messenger from the Holy Lands returns with shocking news, Robin has been ordered to return to service. However, more is at stake than anyone believes and what will happen to the others when Robin is gone? -Post Season 1, Alternate Universe-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1: Letters

Robin Hood: Well Met Steel

By: Shadow Chaser

Started: 8/8/07.

 

**Author’s Notes/Disclaimer:**

_Robin Hood_ and its characters do not belong to me.  I am not making a profit from this fic, this is just for amusement, especially that of my muses.  This takes place a week after the events of “A Clue: No” and does not follow the new season 2 which premieres in September on the BBC.  Sadly, here in the States, we won’t get it until later…poo.  Muses are sad.  Another note is that, I graduated college with a minor in History, which included a lot of English and European history along with Eastern and Asiatic history so my knowledge of the Crusades is pretty thorough.

 

**Story:**

 

_Part 1 - Letters_

 

**_June 9, 1192_ **

 

**NOTTINGHAM**

 

The messenger, dressed in the simple chain-mail and robes of Nottingham’s guard ran swiftly up the stairs of the main door and towards the great hall, his pike held down low as not to accidentally stab any one walking by.  In his other hand, he gripped an ordinary looking parchment that was folded.

“Sire!” the messenger shouted as he burst into the great hall where Sheriff Vaysey was entertaining a Council meeting to discuss the newest taxes collected in the shire.

“-and we should-“ Vaysey raised an eyebrow at the intrusion.

“Sire, for you,” the messenger handed the parchment over.

“If this is a practical joke, I assure you soldier, you are to be-“ Vaysey trailed off as he turned the folded parchment over and looked at the signet mark that was pressed onto the seal.  His eyes widened like saucers as he gingerly peeled the parchment open and scanned its contents.

The messenger was silent as Vaysey read the parchment not once, but three times before folding it and turning to the Council that was gathered, “My Lords, we will have to continue this meeting another time.”

The Lords and Earls of the shire all glanced at one another, grumbling quietly before they filed out of the great hall, leaving only Vaysey and the messenger alone in the room.  “Are you sure?” Vaysey hissed, his hands gripping the parchment in a death grip.

“Yes milord,” the messenger bowed slightly, “Prince John assures that it is true.”

“This will be the death of me!” Vaysey hissed, pacing around, his eyes darting this way and that as he thought fruitlessly of a solution to his latest problem.  It had only been a week since he was strung up by his own damn shoe!  That Robin Hood humiliated him in front of everyone!  And now this!

“Why can’t the world be all right?!” he hissed mostly to himself as he continued to pace before an idea started to form in his head, his pacing slowing down.  “Yes…yes…” he murmured quietly as a grin worked its way up his face.  He suddenly spun on his foot and turned to the messenger, “You!  When is he arriving?”

“Day after tomorrow, sire,” the messenger replied.

“Good, this gives me time to prepare,” he waved the messenger away before walking quickly to another door that led to the inner halls of NottinghamCastle.  “Gisborne!  Gisborne!”

He shouted his right-hand man’s name a few more times before the pale dark-haired man appeared, looking a bit irritated.  “You called?”

Vaysey shoved the letter into his hands to which Gisborne read with a quick glance before handing it back to him.  “Still feeling jilted on your wedding day?”

The man gave him a dark look before shrugging, “She had her reasons.”

“Ah, yes,” Vaysey smiled, “but you can make her your wife permanently when he arrives, you know?”

“And her father?”

“Leave him to me.  After all, a woman her age should be independent of her father.  If she is unmarried any longer, she will become an old maid,” Vaysey said, part of him mildly amused at the fact that his words were getting to Gisborne.  The man was so easy to irritate.

“What shall we do then?” Gisborne replied in his stoic tone.

“I have an idea…”

                                    *                      *                      *

**SHERWOOD FOREST**

 

He watched his men through lazy half-closed eyes, enjoying life to the fullest in Sherwood Forest.  Dark-haired Saracen tomboy Djaq had decided to steal some of Will Scarlett’s tools and he was now chasing her around the camp they had set up, Allan Dale egging the two of them on as he nibbled on the cooked leg of a rabbit.  Closer to the fire set up to roast the rabbits they caught earlier were Much and Little John, the former trying to shoo the latter away from the parts of the rabbit not taken from the spit, saying that it was still raw and uncooked.

Robin Hood, formerly known as Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntington, enjoyed these moments of calm and happiness that prevailed through the camp of his men, especially in light of last week’s events.  If the Sheriff of Nottingham wasn’t infuriated by the actions of him and his men by now, then he wondered what did really tick the Sheriff off.  They had completely humiliated him in front of his subjects, beaten and even killed some of his private guards, and had foiled his plan to root out the leaders of those working against him.  They had even humiliated his right hand man, Guy of Gisborne…though Robin had to give Marian the full credit of punching the slimy bastard in the face.

A half hearted smile worked its way up his lips as he remembered the events of last week.  He had almost lost Marian, a shock that had unburied the deepest feelings in his heart, almost lost his humanity if not for the support of his men and Marian, but had prevailed in the end to see that everything was all right once more.

In the next couple of days following their escape from Nottingham keep, they had kept a strict eye on Marian, knowing that she was in grave danger, but surprisingly, Gisborne hadn’t done anything or even hinted that he considered Marian a threat.  This made Robin happy in a sense, but it also worried him.  He knew that Gisborne was the type of person who nursed grudges like a young suckling infant.  Gisborne had to be planning something, he was sure of it.  But he couldn’t act without proof nor would Marian listen to his pleas for her to at least move to Scarborough like Will’s father and younger brother.  She claimed that her father wasn’t exposed as a traitor and she was duty bound to protect him from the Sheriff’s wrath.  She also claimed that the poor needed her here – she would do more good from within the system than if she had run away.

She also made one very valid point in Robin’s mind; she was beloved by the peasants all throughout the shire.  If Gisborne or the Sheriff were to harm her, the peasants would be very angry and may rise up in rebellion – and she knew that both men knew of her influence with the poor.  She had five years on him to cement her reputation as an outspoken voice of the peasants and he couldn’t disagree with her on that; three years to cement her reputation as the Nightwatchman, though none of the peasants knew about her.

He knew that the people of the shire liked him, but they didn’t love him.  They still feared him as both an outlaw and as part of the nobility.  He knew that his own reputation before he went off to the Holy Lands was slightly checkered and careless and that was his own fault.  The peasants understood that he was robbing the rich to feed the poor, but they also understood that as an outlaw, he couldn’t be trusted – and there was that one incident with Harold attempting to burn Locksley’s church that he took away their form of justice…

Still, he reasoned, it didn’t mean that he couldn’t relax once in a while.  And they deserved it…all of them.  He was lucky that his men were completely loyal to him, even after the way he had treated them on occasion.

Stretching slightly as he got up, he beckoned Allan over.  “Come on, you can bother Djaq and Will later.  Let’s check the trap we’ve made.”

“But I was having fun!” Allan complained a bit as he followed him away from the camp, his long bow strapped across his shoulder, his sword slapping across his left leg.

Robin carried his own trusty Saracen recurved bow with him at all times, and even though they had acquired a few extra recurved ones made by Luke the Cooper, he still was curious as to why Allan preferred the longbow.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t like small bows.  Yes, I know the distance you get with them is better and faster, but I just feel more comfortable with a long bow,” Allan rolled his eyes, having caught him staring at his long bow.  “You keep asking me this every single time we head somewhere, Robin.”

“Sorry,” Robin smirked at Allan, “but this coming from the man who tried to poach one of the King’s deer?”

“Do you have to remind me of that?” Allan gave him a look of mock-pain.

“Yes, yes, I do,” Robin loved how he was able to needle Allan and a few of the others.  The only two people he didn’t needle were Will and Djaq…and especially not Djaq after she had wisely made the comment to listen to her advice when they were dealing with the Saracen assassins more than a month ago.  And needling Will just didn’t seem right…the boy was mostly quiet and kept to himself, but showed absolutely loyalty to Robin that he knew he would feel bad if he needled Will.

“Well, how about I remind you that-“

Robin cut Allan off with a slash of his hand and the man fell silent, looking around warily.  He directed Allan to move a bit away from him as he sensed something in the air.  They were nearing the place where they had set up another trap a couple of days ago to catch wagons and carts.  He had a feeling that something was waiting for them in their trap.  Crouching down, he crawled slowly up to the lip of the hill overlooking their trap and peered down.

A full-fledged grin worked its way up his face as he saw that indeed a very large and ornate carriage was waiting for them in their trap.  “Allan!  Get the others!” he called over to his friend and Allan popped up from where he had been creeping up the other side of the hill and nodded before running back to the camp.

A few minutes later the crunching of branches and dead leaves on the ground told him that his companions had joined him.

“What have we got here?” Djaq’s asked, joining him as he stood on the top of the hill overlooking the carriage.

“A noble’s carriage it seems, though I don’t recognize the colors,” Allan grinned.

“Come on; let’s have a look shall we?” Robin jumped from his spot down onto one of the rocks and made his way down the slope to the carriage.  He made sure that his bow was in his hand in case any of the guards that weren’t knocked out by the ground caving half-in and bringing the carriage’s nose upwards, decided to pick a fight with them.

Stepping carefully around, he saw two guards sitting on the ground, their backs against what was the top of the carriage, apparently unconscious.  Beyond them, was another guard, trying to pry something or someone out of the windows of the carriage.

“Do you need any help?” Robin asked in a loud voice, startling the guard.

“Please…don’t hurt my master or me,” the guard was dressed in simple clothes instead of armor and looked around at Robin’s men who surrounded the carriage, their weapons not quite pointed at him.

“You’re master?” Robin tilted his head, letting a grin form on his face, “and pray tell whom might that be?”

“Please, sir,” the man was most definitely probably not part of the guard since the two unconscious people lying next to the carriage were dressed in armor and colors.  This man was probably a manservant.

“James, sire.  He’s stuck in this carriage!  Please, if any of you are decent men, please help me get him out,” the manservant pleaded with them, his eyes wide and full of fear.

Robin made a wordless gesture to his men to help the manservant out.  There was no need to leave anyone injured in the forest – they were not _that_ barbaric.  Plus, it usually made it easier for them to acquire the gold and wealth the nobles had.  He stepped back slightly as Little John and Djaq both jumped into the giant hole, Little John to help with the lifting while Djaq with her smaller form would be able to pull the possibly injured or unconscious noble out.

He ran the name James around his head a couple of times.  There were a few James of nobility that he knew…and a couple of them he had met during his time in the Holy Land…the closest James to Nottingham was James of Birmingham, Earl of Hunt.  He had never seen the colors the Earl of Birmingham wore but judging by the fact that the city was rich with life and trade, it wasn’t hard for him to imagine that it was this James that had traveled with such an elaborate carriage.  But what puzzled him was why did he only have two guards with him?

“Will, keep an eye on the woods, will you?” he called to the carpenter who nodded and jogged a little away from them, stringing his bow as he went along, his eyes staring sharply into the woods.  He didn’t want to take any chances potentially having the Lord’s other guards ambush them while they were grabbing their loot.

 “Ho!” there was a loud grunt from Little John before the overturned carriage creaked slightly and Djaq scrambled to pull out the passenger within.  Much then took her burden from her arms and lifted him up to the ground level where he put him down.  The loud thumping crash of the carriage settling back into its hole rattled a few birds from their perches and the squawked as they flew away from noise.

He walked over to the unconscious noble as Allan was helping Little John, Djaq, and the manservant out of the hole.  Suddenly the smile that had been plastered onto his face slipped as he saw what the man was wearing.

“Master…look,” Much also noticed as he crouched down next to the unconscious body of the noble, “his clothes…”

“He’s a Crusader,” Robin whispered as he knelt down by the body.  His eyes traveled up to the noble’s face before they widened in surprise and a wave of unease poured over him.  He knew this noble…he knew this James…

“Master, what-“

“Please, is my master all right?  I swear, he will give you anything if you want it, just don’t hurt him,” the manservant broke in, rushing up to the unconscious body and half shielding it, his pleading eyes locking on to Robin’s.  “He is the last of the Westwood line, please don’t hurt him.”

Robin stared at the unconscious face once more before getting up and stared at his men, all except for Much who wore a look of puzzlement.  “Tie the two guards together and bring them with us.  Much, keep an eye on James’ servant.  Little John, I need you to carry our erstwhile Earl of Westwood to the camp.”

“You know him, Robin?” Little John asked, coming over and gently picking up the unconscious noble.

“Of course,” Robin gave him an easy grin, “I fought with him.  He’s James of Atherstone, Earl of Westwood.  And by his clothes, he’s only just returned from the Crusades.”

                                    *                      *                      *

[Insert intro here!]

                                    *                      *                      *

Their prisoner awakened almost an hour later, a bit bleary-eyed and wincing in pain before Djaq poured a liquid mixture to ease the pain.  Robin stayed a bit away from him, absently whittling a few new arrows for his bow watching James carefully as he looked around in confusion.  His guards were still unconscious and tied up to a giant tree while his manservant was also bound, but sitting next to him.  They had stripped James of his weaponry which was lying on the ground across from the fire.  The Crusader’s hands were bound together as was his feet.

“Where am I?” Robin noticed that James didn’t seem to see him, and was only looking at the grim faces of Little John, Allan, and Will.  He started slightly when Djaq came across his vision.  “A Saracen!” James hissed, earning frowns from everyone.

“The same one who tended to your wounds,” Djaq shot back angrily before sitting down in front of the fire, giving a dark look at James whose face was contorted into a mask of fury.

“I don’t need your witchcraft help!” he struggled against his bonds, “untie me!  Do you know who you are dealing with here?!”

“No, but perhaps you can enlighten us?” Little John stepped forward, his quarterstaff held in front of him in a menacing gesture.

“Um, I don’t think that would be necessary,” Much suddenly appeared, holding a brace of rabbits in his hands, “please can we all calm down here?”

“You look familiar…” James initially looked like he was about to start shouting again, but instead, had a peculiar look on his face as Much walked towards the fire and Djaq where she was still glaring darkly at the Crusader.  “Have we met before?”

“Yes,” Much said in a halting tone, “my Master and I served in the Crusades, we met at Acre.”

“Your master…” James frowned for a second, searching his memory, “you’re Much!  Much from Locksley, aren’t you?  And your Master is Robin of Locksley, right?!”

Robin finally detached himself from his observation perch and walked down towards James.  “Good to see you again James.  I see that you’ve come home relatively unscathed so to speak,” he said in a quiet voice, startling the others who backed down from brandishing their weapons.

“Robin of Locksley?” James blinked his eyes almost as if he couldn’t see him, “is it really you?”

Robin nodded once as he approached and knelt down in front of the Crusader, “It is me.”

“But…why…” James stared at him, taking in his clothes and appearance before a knowing look appeared on his face, “I have heard rumors…rumors that you turned outlaw when you returned home…I didn’t believe them to be true, but now…”

“My peasants and those in Nottingham were being treated unfairly, taxed harshly.  I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing but kiss up to the others of the nobility,” Robin explained.

“Those rumors have been swirling around the court of Prince John.  Rumors that you defy the Sheriff of Nottingham time and time again,” James said before lifting up his hands that were tied together, “please, untie me.  I have been sent to find you.”

“From who?” Robin narrowed his eyes slightly.

“From the King himself,” James replied, “please!  Untie me!”

“All right,” Robin agreed reluctantly before untying the ropes holding James’ hands together.

The Crusader immediately pulled something out of the folds of his chain-mail armor and handed it to Robin.  He noticed that it was a folded piece of parchment and turned it around in his hands.  The red wax seal of King Richard greeted him and his eyes widened as he took a few steps back from James, staring at the seal.  This came all the way from the Holy Lands…

“Robin?” Will’s tentative voice startled him from his musings and he looked up to see the rest of the gang staring at him expectantly.

He opened the letter and cleared his throat, “ _From King Richard I the Lionhearted, By the Grace of God, King of the English, Duke of the Normans and Aquitanians, Count of the Angevins to Sir Robin of Locksley, Earl of Huntington, Lord and Knight of the English, Captain of the Guard_ ,” Robin gave a quick grin to his gang all whom were rolling their eyes at the long list of titles before continuing on.

“ _On this day of May fifteenth the year of our Lord eleventy ninety-two, I hereby request the presence that you are to be reinstated to your lands and…_ ” Robin trailed off as his eyes scanned the rest of the letter, “ _and…return to continue the fight for the Holy Lands as dictated by Pope Gregory VIII.  You are to lead the Guard once more to glory.  Your humble servant James of Atherstone, Earl of Westwood, Lord and Knight of the Third Guard will retain your lands until you return from your service to the Church._ ”

He suddenly found his mouth dry, his hands holding the parchment as he stared up at the trees, his eyes not even taking in the shocked look his friends wore.  He had been granted leave to return to England by King Richard and though the letter that had been left for him when he recovered after the brutal assassination attempt said to rest and regain his health, he had a feeling then that the King would call upon him again.  But hadn’t he served enough?  He had saved the King’s life on three different occasions…

“I’m…sorry Robin,” James stared at the ground, “I…didn’t know.  I was only bid to send you this letter with the utmost of haste…”

Suddenly everything seemed crystal clear, as if Robin could see for the first time.  He heard the distinct sounds of the woodland life of Sherwood through his ears, the bright colors of the forest in the midst of beautiful green leaves.  The touch of the light breeze that flitted from tree to tree…and for some reason, he could feel the searing kiss he shared with Marian right before they charged in to save her father a week ago.  _Marian…_

Then it was as if all thoughts collapsed back on itself like imploding dune sand he had seen in the deserts of the Holy Lands and he turned back to stare at James who met his gaze with steady eyes, “Does the Sheriff of Nottingham knows?”

“He will.  I was on my way to meet him when we were caught by your trap,” James replied evenly.

“I see…” Robin turned and began to walk away from the camp, “Much…”

“Master?” even Much sounded subdued and that was a sound he didn’t like to hear.

“Release James and his men.  They will stay with us tonight since its getting dark.  Tomorrow, we go to Nottingham.”

“Yes Master,” Much replied but he didn’t even hear his friend’s answer as he walked out of the campsite, wanting to be alone for a while.

                                    *                      *                      *

Robin reckoned a few hours had passed since he left the camp, but he kept sitting on the rock he was occupying, staring out into the darkness of Sherwood Forest.  Had he been deluding himself all these past weeks since his return?  Had he been hoping that he would settle here, live the life of an outlaw, perhaps overthrow the Sheriff and Gisborne only to perhaps marry Marian in the end and live happily ever after?

There was a war going on out there!  Even he should have seen the signs that while he had been battling his own war here in England, the war of the corrupt, the other war, the religious holy war that was only the doing of Pope Gregory XIII was the one where countless of blood was being shed and wasted.  Good men were coming home broken and battered.  His mind had nearly shattered during the five years he served as Captain of the Guard, if not for Much’s constant companionship and talking, he might have become what Harold was, or even worst.

A part of him realized that he was afraid.  Afraid of returning to the Holy Lands…afraid that if he did return, he would transform into something inhuman, something that didn’t feel, care, or even notice anything else except the blade between his hands and the thirst of blood.  That was why he lost his taste for blood as the Sheriff had said.  He had seen too many innocents die during his five years of hell.  And now King Richard wanted him to return.

Could he do it?  Could he return and still keep what was left of his own humanity?  Could he return from the Holy Lands once more and hold Marian in his arms without being hypocritical of his own self?  The blood on his hands was the stained blood of the many innocents he had killed…he had been forced to kill.  All in the name of glory, God, and what was supposedly rightfully the Christians.  Even Much didn’t know the full extent of his sin of killing innocents…no one knew except a few others.

He had originally thought that his near fatal wound was from the grace of God to send him home, for God to tell him that he had enough, he was done; he could go home and rest.  But was God now calling him back to the Holy Lands?  Did God decide that his time of peace was over?

He knew that he didn’t have the answers, only the orders from King Richard…

Marian…how would she react to the news?  Just when they were admitting their feelings for one another…  Robin let his head hang between his propped up knees, his hands grabbing his head.  Sweet, spunky, beautiful Marian…who had waited for him for five years…whom had almost married Gisborne only to run away from her wedding and straight into his arms; whom had kissed him, her taste like honey and wine…caring, gentle Marian.

“Marian…” he choked out almost silently.

Would Gisborne now actively court her once he was gone?  Would she wait another five years for him?  He wasn’t sure…  He wanted to protect her, to make sure that no harm ever came to her.  ‘We should be together,’ that was what he told her when she was dying from her wounds.

Giving a shake of his head, he tried to drive all thoughts of Marian and the letter from his mind as he stood up, staring out into the darkness once more.  He would deal with Marian reaction when she found out.  It wasn’t good to dwell on such things.  But if there was one good thing that came out of this whole letter, it was probably the expression of shock that the Sheriff would be wearing tomorrow – and Gisborne too, he added as an afterthought.

As he turned and started back towards the camp, a half smile formed on his face as he could see the pole-axed expression both would probably be wearing.  It would be worth it to see that expression.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

The famed band of outlaws throughout Nottinghamshire walked in plain view through the mid-morning sun beating down upon them as they came to the gates of Nottingham.  They walked with their heads held up high, wiry smiles on their faces as the peasants openly gaped at them, wondering why they were crazy enough to accompany a Crusader, his two guards, and manservant to the man that surely wanted them captured and hanged.

Robin couldn’t keep the smirk off his face as he watched the peasants’ reaction to him and his band of outlaws.  Even the guards that they approached were doing double takes.

“Halt, sire,” one of the guards stepped forward to their party, holding up his hand, “identification papers please.”

“I trust you’ll find them in order, guard,” James leaned down and handed a roll of parchments.

“Sir, you do know that traveling in the company of these men makes your papers seem irrelevant?” the guard spoke up as he looked through the papers.

“I understand, guard, but I can assure you, these men are not wanted men anymore,” James replied evenly, “the Sheriff is expecting me.”

“Perhaps-“ the guard looked like he was going to say more, but his eyes suddenly bulged slightly as he looked at the last piece of James’ papers, and from what Robin could see, it was a Royal Decree complete with the seal of King Richard.  He couldn’t see the words from his vantage point, but apparently the guard understood completely and froze on the spot.

“Milord, I understand, please proceed in.  I will summon the Sheriff for you,” the guard bowed low and deeply at them before running to his partner and whispering in his ear.  The other guard immediately sped inside, probably to rouse the Sheriff up.

Robin exchanged surprised glances with his men, all whom shrugged before they followed James in.  When they came to the main courtyard of the castle, the Sheriff was hurrying down the steps, Gisborne and a host of guards following him.

“Sir James,” the Sheriff started, smiling hastily, “we were not expecting you until tomorrow.”

“I trust that you’ve received the letter I’ve sent ahead of my arrival stating when I shall be arriving?” James dismounted his horse and Robin noticed that the man’s demeanor became a bit more cold and standoffish.

“Yes but-“

“These men who travel with me, I presume that you call them outlaws?”

Robin smiled slightly as the Sheriff flicked a look at him before drawing himself up.

“Yes, they have committed grave crimes against the Crown and their leader, Locksley has prevented the true nature of justice to prevail when he was told to participate in the execution of peasants who stole flour,” the Sheriff replied stiffly.

“They are under my protection until we have the chance to talk, Sheriff.  Your men will not harm Robin or his men or you will face the wrath of the Crown,” James started up the stairs, his guards and manservant following behind him as he abruptly swept past the Sheriff.

Robin’s half-smile blossomed into a full grin as he saw the Sheriff gape slightly before hurrying to follow James and guide him to the great hall, Gisborne following in his wake, silent as ever.  He chuckled slightly as Allan and Much gave mocking bows to the guards before following him in.

Arriving in the great hall, he wasn’t surprised to see most of not all of the nobles that lorded over the towns within the shire there.  It was customary to have daily meetings during the week to assess the populace’s mood, or in the Sheriff’s case, how much taxes were collected during the day before.  He kept his expression neutral as he saw Marian standing behind her father Edward, both whom had surprised looks on their faces as they saw him and his gang walk down the stairs before settling in the back of the room, half in the shadows.

James swept around the nobles to take a seat where the Sheriff usually sat, leaving the Sheriff comically standing to the side, a bit off-kilter.  Behind him, Gisborne stood silently as a statue, though Robin could see that the man was very confused as to what was happening and whether or not he should spring into action with his sword.

“This better not be another one of your tricks, Sheriff.  Your last one did not go well with us,” one of the nobles spoke up darkly.

“Tricks?” James asked, arching an eyebrow at the Sheriff who gave a sickly laugh before holding his hands up.

“The lords of the lands jest, sire,” the Sheriff replied weakly.

“I am James of Atherstone, Earl of Westwood, Lord and Knight of the Third Guard of the King’s Crusade to reclaim the Holy Lands,” James spoke from his seat, “I have been sent back to the homeland because of some disturbing reports that have reached the King’s ears.”

James stood up and started to pace back and forth, his eyes glinting like crystals.  “Reports that those who have been oppressed have nothing left to fight with; reports that people are suffering from the inequities that plague the lands.  King Richard sees that while this war must continue for the sake of Christianity and our souls, he also sees that the people are in need.

“Sheriff,” James pulled out a parchment with the King’s seal on it unbroken and handed it to the Sheriff who took it rather reluctantly, “please read this aloud.  All who are present in this room are to be witness to this.”

Robin watched as the Sheriff broke the seal and unrolled the parchment before starting to read it.

“ _From King Richard I the Lionhearted, By the Grace of God, King of the English, Duke of the Normans and Aquitanians, Count of the Angevins to Sheriff Vaysey of Nottinghamshire, Lord of the Lands and Keeper of Sherwood Forestry.  It has come to our attention that your servitude to the English people has been tempered with your iron-will grip of the funds that provide us with the necessary tools of war.  While we humbly receive those funds to continue our war against the infidels and those who defy Christianity and embrace a pagan god, we do not wish to discount the fact that our people have been suffering in absence._

_“From hence forth on this day whence my servant Sir James of Atherstone, Earl of Westwood, arrives, a new governor shall be declared: Lord Edward Fitzwalter of Knighton shall continue in my stead._ ”

Silence filled the room as the Sheriff stopped reading and glanced back at James who nodded.  Robin stared at Edward who looked completely surprised by the news, Marian holding her hands to her mouth that had fallen open.  Even the nobles had fallen silent and was either staring at Edward or the former Sheriff.

“Guy of Gisborne,” James suddenly said in the silence, startling all in the room.

“Sir,” Gisborne looked wary as he approached James.

“This is for you.  You do not have to read it out loud,” James handed over a folded parchment with the seal still intact to Gisborne who opened it and read the contents quickly.

“Sir?” the look on Gisborne’s face was unreadable.

“You have your orders.  Arrest Sheriff Vaysey,” James said in an even tone.

Robin watched as Gisborne hesitated for a second before drawing out his sword and reluctantly pointed it at the Sheriff.  He wondered what was in the contents of the letter for Gisborne to actually turn on the man that had brought him to power for the past four years.  It had to be something worthwhile…

“Escort Lord Vaysey out of the room and to secure quarters please,” Gisborne said to the guards who hesitated for a fraction of a second before following the man’s orders.

“Wouldn’t the dungeons be a better place?” James spoke up as the guards were half way up the stairs with Vaysey in between them.

“You did not specify where he would be placed, sir,” Gisborne replied stiffly.

“True,” James waved him off before sitting back down in his seat and addressing the now completely stunned crowd of lords.

“I’m not being funny, but that did not just happen did it?” Allan whispered.

“Apparently it did,” Will replied next to him.

                                    *                      *                      *

Marian kept a very firm grip on the back of the high chair her father sat on, lest she find herself collapsing to the ground in shock.  She dared not look back at Robin or any of his men just in case this was another trap again, but it seemed that this time, it was the real deal.

She couldn’t believe what she had heard.  Sheriff Vaysey ousted, her father reinstated as the sheriff once more, all because the King had heard the pleas of his people all the way in the Holy Lands.  She had thought the King was too busy to care about his own people, including those he ruled in France, but apparently her fears were allayed.

“Now that business has been dealt with,” the Crusader James stood up and gestured to the seat that he had been occupying moments ago before staring at her father, “Lord Edward, I believe this is your rightful place.”

Marian glanced down at her father who gave her an unreadable look before getting up and walking towards the seat before sitting down, almost tentatively.  She had to admit, her father looked out of place in the seat that had been Sheriff Vaysey’s for the past four years.  She still remembered how her father had decorated the castle when he was Sheriff.  It was most definitely a lot homelier and the peasants and nobles alike felt like they were at home and were more open to talk about things that mattered in their villages.

“I believe my first action as the Sheriff shall be the lessening of taxes to the peasants throughout the shire and give each peasant, be it man, woman, or child a coin for their troubles,” Edward declared.  There was just a split second of silence before Marian heard clapping from behind and turned slightly to see Robin step forward from the shadows.  Seconds later, his men joined in and she looked around to see the other nobles reluctantly joining in.

“It seems, Sheriff, that a celebration is in order,” Robin spoke up as the clapping died away, “might I suggest Locksley Manor?”

Marian stared in surprise.  Why would Robin suggest his former lodgings?

“After all, you are not the only one to regain your title,” he continued before winking at her, a roguish smile on his face.

She smiled coolly back at him, still flustered from what had just happened.  Her first thought was did Guy know about the fact that Robin regained his title and lands at Locksley?  And if he did, what did Guy get in return to make him betray the one man that he was always loyal to?  She knew that she needed to talk to Robin later tonight during the party.  There was something he wasn’t saying, she could tell.

                                    *                      *                      *

**LOCKSLEY MANOR**

 

It was just a bit after noon when Robin rode into Locksley with his men, a smile on his face.  Even though he knew that he would be leaving in the next couple of days for the Crusades once more, he still felt happy that his men and his status had been regained all for the greater good.  On their way from Nottingham to Locksley, he had told each of his men, with the exception of Much since he had long made that promise of Bonchurch to him, that they would get a plot of land for their own in Locksley should they want to stay.

Djaq and the others were surprised and the Saracen tomboy had asked him what would she do with a piece of land as she preferred to sleep out in the forest.  He had only smiled and told her she could do whatever she wanted with that piece of land and left it at that.  As they rode in, Robin could see that his peasants were all standing by their front doors, bowing down to him.  Apparently word spread fast as to what had happened in Nottingham.

He smiled and waved at them before riding towards his manor…his home.  Home…  He had only barely gotten to enjoy Locksley Manor when he became an outlaw and now, it seemed so close once more.  He knew that he would have to leave probably the day after tomorrow, but for now, it was his home.  His place of rest…

“Robin!” Thornton’s cheerful voice greeted him as he halted in front of the main courtyard and dismounted, handing the reins to one of the stable boys who took the horse and lead it away along with Much’s.  A couple of other stable boys came out and grabbed the others’ horses and led them away.

“Thornton!” Robin shook his faithful head of servants’ hand before pulling him into a firm hug.  Releasing him, he grinned, “I take it you’ve heard the news?”

“Of course, Master.  I’ve already have the cooks prepare a feast for tonight.  How many are we expecting?”

“A few nobles, Sheriff Edward and Marian, Sir James and his party,” Robin rattled off before he snapped his fingers, “and perhaps the whole of Locksley.”

“Milord that is a lot of people,” Thornton looked a bit faint.

“Don’t worry,” he put his hand on his servant’s shoulder, “I trust you still have the stockpile we gave a few days ago?”

“Yes!  I shall have the others fetch them,” his servant replied.

“Good, good.  Now, Thornton, my men are guests in this house and as such, they will be treated to whatever they want.  I will be asking Lord Edward tonight to pardon them,” he looked back to the rest of the gang, all whom wore smiles on their faces, especially Much who looked completely ecstatic.

“Very good milord,” Thornton bowed slightly, “I will have the women draw baths for each of them.”

“Good.  Keep them happy and keep them occupied.  I have some unfinished business to attend to for the moment.  I will return in a few hours.  Please prepare a bath for me then,” Robin said.

“Master do you want me to come?” Much spoke up and Robin turned to his best friend shaking his head.

“No, you stay here and enjoy yourself.  Have some food since you’re always complaining about the lack of it in the forest,” the others laughed lightly at his statement, “don’t worry.  I’ll be back before the party can get started.”

Much nodded, happy and eager that he didn’t have to go anywhere else but enjoy a long bath and food to go along with it.

“Baths…this is going to feel so good!” Djaq clasped her hands together and Robin watched them for a second as Thornton ushered them up the stairs to the guest rooms where they could relax before heading down to the bath houses, before he headed back out to the stables to get his horse.

As he approached the stables, he saw little Seamus, only a spindly four-year-old when he had left for the Crusades, now a growing nine-year-old brushing down his horse.  “Seamus, how is Treaton doing?”

“I was about to give him a second brush, do you need him sire?” Seamus asked, putting down the brush that he had been grooming his horse Treaton with.

“If possible; I need to meet an old friend in Knighton,” he replied.

“Very good sire,” Seamus dropped the brush down onto the ground before running to the back of the stables to get Treaton’s tack and saddle.  He came back after a few minutes and Robin watched him put the equipment onto his horse.  The kid had the skills and judging by what he had seen by the care of his own horse and that of the others, Seamus would be a master squire by the time he was in his teens.

“Excellent work Seamus.  I’m sure your father would be proud of you,” he led his horse out before mounting with one swift movement.

“Thank you sire,” Seamus bowed his head slightly, embarrassed.

“After you’re done taking care of the other horses, go into the house and tell Thornton that you would like a large helping of whatever you want.  It is on my orders.”

“Thank you!” Seamus looked up and grinned at him as he rode away, headed to Knighton.  James said that he would be in Knighton to help the newly reinstated Sheriff Edward ease into his role once more and Robin needed to talk to him before any of the festivities started.

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

It only took an hour or so to ride to Knighton and Robin could already see a change within the village.  Many of the villagers were milling about, chatting happily with each other and the shadowy figures that used to be Sheriff Vaysey’s spies were gone from the corners of the houses and the local pub.  Riding up to the Edward’s home, he dismounted his horse and let one of the stable boys hold the reins.

He knocked on the door and a few seconds later, was pleasantly surprised by Marian opening it up and answering it.

“Marian,” he smiled at her and she gave him a faint one in return, color rising to her cheeks.

“If you are looking for Sir James or my father, they are still at Nottingham,” she replied before starting to close the door on him.

Robin put his foot between the door and the frame before it closed fully, “Wait!  You don’t think I came all this way just to talk to James or your father did you?”

She opened the door again and stared at him with a raised eyebrow, “It seems that every time you come, you’re either asking my father or me a favor.  So why should this time be any different?”

“True,” Robin conceded, “but since I’m now not an outlaw anymore, couldn’t I come by and start to court you properly?”

He bit his lip from laughing out loud as he saw her face flush slightly in embarrassment.  “Come on…is it so bad that I am courting you now?”

“Robin…” her tone was a warning one, but her face was still red.  She glanced down for a second before composing herself and giving him a tilted look.  “Well, if you are courting me, Sir Robin of Locksley, shouldn’t you do so with a gift first?”

“You’re too spoiled with gifts from Gisborne,” he said, “especially that horse that he tried to give you before it was repossessed.”

“It is better than the empty promises you give as your gifts,” she shot back, half a smirk on her face.

“You wound me,” he ducked his head as if he had been shot.  This was one of the reasons why he found her completely fascinating; she spoke her mind with no fear of repercussions at all.

“Would you like me to treat that wound with a thick needle?”

“Thick and sharp?” he grinned at the joke shared between them.

“Sharper than the one used on your arm,” she replied, a smile blossoming on her face, “but since you’ve regained your title and lands, we can use one of your spare arrows as your needle, can’t we?”

“Ow…” he admitted defeat, holding up his hands, “I can almost never win an argument with you, Marian.”

“Correction,” she wasn’t letting him go so easily, “you never won an argument with me.  Remember, that time, seven years ago during my birthday?”

“The incident with the haystack?” he vaguely recalled her thirteenth birthday.  Granted he had been completely drunk off of the wine her father had pulled out to celebrate her birthday and coming out party, he could still remember flashes of what happened.

“Yes, the incident with the haystack,” she poked him hard in the chest, “you dared me to find a needle in that haystack to beat you at your game.  We both shouted at each other while digging through the haystack.”

Robin narrowed his eyes slightly as he could remember parts of it before pursing his lips and nodding slowly, “You won that argument by throwing me into the mud…  That was the first time we really met each other, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” Marian nodded, but Robin could see that she was holding something back but decided not to press the issue, “and after that, I won all of our arguments.”

“Up until I left,” he abruptly stopped, wondering if he should tell her about his orders to return to the Holy Lands.  Last time he had told her the same night he had proposed to her that he was going to the Holy Lands to follow King Richard to glory, but it was only part of the real reason.  He went, because he wanted to prove to her that he would protect her with his life that he was going to be a worthy husband.

Since he was a child, he had heard rumors of who he was to be engaged to when he came to adulthood and the rumors he had heard of Marian was that she was a spoiled little girl who liked pretty things and was like a dainty teacup.  It was then that he had made a promise to break her heart so that he wouldn’t have to marry a girl like her.  So when her thirteenth birthday came up and he was invited, he wanted to embarrass her in front of everyone and had set up the haystack dare to break her.

Except it had the completely opposite effect.  Stunned by her tenacity and willful nature, he had fallen in love with her and made a new promise to himself, he would prove to be a worthy husband to her.  He would protect her with his life, love her completely, and never, ever make her cry.

The mood between them had turned quiet and Robin glanced up to see her radiant smile gone from her face, a glum look now gracing her features.

“Was it all for glory and battle?” she asked, her voice quiet.

The word ‘yes’ wanted to spill easily from his lips, but Robin knew that she would be disappointed once more so he shrugged, “Right now…I don’t know.”

“Hah,” she gave a very unladylike snort, “you don’t know?  All men go to battle for glory and for honor.”

He opened his mouth to say something before closing it and shaking his head, thumping his hand on the frame of her door, “Look, can we not talk about this right now?”

“Then when is a good time to talk about it Robin?  When?” she stared at him, her eyes filled with disappointment, “you avoid the subject every time I bring it up!”

“Because,” he felt a flash of anger at her, “because you don’t know what I’ve seen there!  It’s not glory or honor!  Its bloodshed of innocents and those who fight for nothing!  Just a bloody piece of land!  You think I like to talk about my time in the Holy Lands?!”

“Well it seems to suit you just fine to take your skills and use it in your current profession of being an outlaw!” she retorted.

“It’s only because I come back from the Holy Lands to find that the rich are robbing the poor and corruption exists everywhere!  And don’t give me your speech about working from within the system;” he held up a finger to stop her from interrupting him, “I am _tired_ of seeing people die, Marian!  I am tired of watching all of my friends, all those innocents hang or be killed just because they can’t defend themselves!”

“So you think you can become everyone’s protector?  You think you can take the fall for everyone?  You’re so full of it, Robin!  Grow up!” she said angrily, “becoming that sacrificial lamb is unbecoming of you!”

“Unbecoming?!” Robin’s eyebrows shot up in shock, “unbecoming?!”

She immediately looked away, “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“I think you do,” he whispered angrily before pushing himself away from her, “I’ll see you later.”

He stormed away from her front door and quickly mounted his horse and galloped away, his thoughts dark and mood bitter as he rode back to Locksley.  This was definitely not the conversation he wanted to have with her…

                                    *                      *                      *

**LOCKSLEY MANOR**

 

It was a few hours later and the party was already underway.  Robin’s mood had improved slightly as he played the host for Edward’s reinstatement to the title of Sheriff and his own welcome-home party.  He had arrived back at his home to find Djaq yelling at both Allan and Will for trying to peek in on her while she was having her bath.  The latter of the two completely red-faced and denying that he was even trying to look at her, the former not even trying to deny that he was peeking in on her.

He had decided to let them settle the matter by themselves and had checked in with Much to see that his good friend was asleep in one of the guestrooms, a half-eaten plate of chicken by his nightstand.  Little John was also in his own guestroom, except he was napping sitting in one of the chairs, his quarterstaff resting on his shoulders.  Robin had shaken his head at the sight.  John would probably never sleep in a normal bed for the rest of his life; he was too used to living in the outdoors and on the run.

Right now, glancing over the rim of the cup of wine he held in his hand, he could see both Allan and Will had red marks on their faces, courtesy of Djaq who apparently resolved the matter by slapping both men.  She now was talking with a couple of the healers from the nearby villages that had come to the party, occasionally smirking at Allan and Will, both whom looked sullen.  Both Much and Little John had awoken from their naps to join in the party.

“Attention, attention please,” James suddenly called from the other side of the room, quieting the conversations that had been going on.  “I would like to propose a toast to the new Sheriff, Edward Fitzwalter!  To his health and may he watch over the shire with a kind and firm hand!”

“Here, here!” Robin and the others raised their glasses before drinking some of the wine.

“And also,” James turned to face him across the room, “to Sir Robin of Locksley.  If you hadn’t heard the news by now, the King has requested that Sir Robin return to the Holy Lands to aide him once more as Captain of his Guard.  To your safe journey, my friend, and may you gain more glory and honor for the English people!”

“Here, here!” a majority of the party-goers called out, as Robin tilted his head in acknowledgement, all the while noticing the sad looks on his men’s faces.  He also noted the shock on both Edward and Marian’s faces, but steadfastly tried to ignore it, especially when Marian slipped out to the kitchens a few seconds later.  This was not how he wanted Marian to find out the news…

As the rest of the guests resumed their conversations with each other, Robin headed towards James, hoping to catch the man before some other noble got to him.  He needed to talk to him.  Along the way, he nodded or murmured his thanks to the other nobles and a few servants passing by as they congratulated him and wished him good heath on his return trip to the Holy Lands.

Finally he reached James’ side and cleared his throat politely, pulling him from a conversation with a woman who was dressed in the deepest shades of red possible.

“Ah, Robin, I trust that the party is going well?” James asked him.

“Yes,” Robin took a quick sip of his wine, “everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.”

“Yes, yes,” James smiled congenially before gesturing to the woman in the dark slightly fluffy red dress, “I was just having the most fascinating conversation with Lady Therier.  Apparently her husband had served as an ambassador earlier in the Holy Lands before the King arrived.”

“That’s nice,” Robin said quickly before pulling James to the side slightly, “can I talk to you for a second?”

“Sure,” James nodded before taking Lady Therier’s hand and kissing it, making her blush completely into her mottled grey hair, “milady, this will just take a moment.”

“You worm your way into a girl’s heart so easily, Sir James.  Of course, I will wait,” she replied, giggling like a teenaged girl before smiling at Robin, “and you too, Sir Robin.  Oh do I remember you charming those lovely young ladies at the parties you held.  With the two of you boys here, I feel like I’m twenty again!”

Robin flashed a brief grimacing grin before walking towards the door to the kitchens, dragging James along with him.  “James, I need to talk to you about the King’s letter.”

“What about it?” James asked quietly.

“There is no time or place of when I would be leaving and where to go on the letter,” he said.

“That’s because I am to accompany you to London before returning here to manage your estate.  Your ship will be docked in its ports to take you to the French mainland where you will then head south to the port of Gibraltar.  The King told me to let you say your goodbyes before leaving, which is why he didn’t specify a date in which you are needed,” James explained.

“So I can basically stay here until winter,” Robin muttered, looking around at the party-goers, seeing their happy faces as anger filled him.  He didn’t want to go!  He had a home here, a life – well, the dangerous life of an outlaw, but damn it all to hell, he was doing some good here!

“Robin,” James looked scandalized, “you don’t mean that!”

“Of course I don’t,” Robin shook his head, rolling his eyes, “but you get the point.”

“I think, it be best if we left the day after tomorrow,” the Crusader said gently.

Scratching the back of his head he sighed and reluctantly nodded, “Yeah…I think you’re right.  Every second here longer kills me…”

“I think its also killing your lady friend…I think Sheriff Edward’s daughter?  Marian?” James stared at him with knowing eyes.

“Marian,” Robin confirmed.

“I’ve seen how you look at her…and how she looks at you.  You didn’t tell her earlier did you?” James frowned slightly.

Robin didn’t say anything and instead watched the party continue on.  He could see the laughing faces of his gang, his friends.  All of them wore a look of joy that he hadn’t seen for a long time.  Even Much’s usual worried-lined face was washed away in a full smile that ran from ear to ear.  Jealousy started to creep through him and he clamped down hard on the emotion.  He had no right to be jealous of his friends.  They deserved this, this happiness.

“I think Lady Therier is calling you back,” he noticed the waving of the lady’s hand, a blood-red handkerchief in it as she beckoned to them.

“I’ll come mid morning for you,” James said before he moved past Robin and back into the party, leaving him alone.

Robin stared at the party for a few more minutes before turning back around and headed into the kitchen.  He needed to talk with Marian and hopefully this time, it would be properly…

                                    *                      *                      *

He found her out in the back of the manor just beyond the lights from the kitchen, staring out into the cattail fields and beyond that, the woods of Sherwood.  Knowing that she was probably angry at him, especially in light of their fight earlier, he walked towards her cautiously.  “Marian?”

She didn’t answer him and instead kept staring out into the forest, the dusk sun slowly setting into the trees.

“Marian?” he tried again walking closer to her.

“I knew it was too good to be true,” he could barely hear her whisper before she turned to face him and he was taken aback at the tears falling down her face before she roughly scrubbed them away and gave him a sad smile.  “That’s why you came to Knighton, didn’t you?  To find Sir James to talk about you leaving for the Holy Lands.”

“On orders,” he quickly interrupted, stepping closer to her and taking her hands into his own.  He did not want to see her cry; it broke his heart every time he saw tears in her eyes.  “I go on orders this time Marian.  Not for glory, nor for honor, just on orders.”

“It’s still the same isn’t it?” she looked away from him, “it doesn’t matter whether or not you’re going on orders or not.  You’re leaving again…”

Releasing her hands, he reached up and touched her chin, gently turning her gaze back onto him, “Marian, what is this really about?”

“This,” she looked down, her fingers wringing together, “is about you leaving, once more to fight a war you said yourself is already at home.”

“What do you want me to say?  I can’t ignore my duty to my King,” Robin looked at her in desperation, “I don’t want to leave Locksley again.  Not when this…this wonderful thing has happened!”

“I…know,” she looked down slightly, “and I know you can’t run away…”

“I want to stay,” he said forcefully, making her stare at him once more, “I want to stay and…court your properly.”

“Court?” the faintest hint of a blush appeared on her cheeks and Robin’s lips curled into a humorous grin.

“Court; and I wasn’t joking earlier,” he leaned closer to her, emphasizing his words.

“H-How long will you be gone?” she stared deeply into his eyes as he was drawn into her deep blue ones.

“Hopefully not long,” he whispered, moving a bit closer before his lips captured hers in a long kiss.  His hands moved of their own accord, holding her shoulders firmly as he stepped in closer to her, their bodies almost touching.  Drinking in the sweet taste of her lips, he wished that this moment would last forever.  All of the heartaches he had felt for her, all the dreams he had about her…  But he knew that it wasn’t meant to last forever…and broke the kiss off after a few more seconds and released her, stepping back.  He wanted to hold her for a long time, but he knew that even with his status regained, what he was doing, what he had done, was completely inappropriate if anyone had seen them.

There was a polite clearing of a throat and both he and Marian turned their heads to see Much standing by the back entrance, looking a bit embarrassed.  “Master,” Much looked regretful at having to interrupt them, “Guy of Gisborne is looking for you.”

“Gisborne?” Robin’s brows knitted together in puzzlement.

“Yes.  He wouldn’t say what though.  I told him to go home, but he said he needed to talk to you,” Much shrugged.

Robin shook his head, resigned before he turned back to Marian and gently stroked her hair, reveling in the softness of her brown locks.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered to her before turning around and walking towards the front of his manor.

When he arrived at the front of his manor, he noticed that indeed, Gisborne was standing by his horse, looking decidedly uncomfortable and out of place.  A ripple of anger shot through Robin as he approached the man.  Part of him just wanted to rip Gisborne to pieces for what he did to him and to the King in the Holy Lands, the other part of him wanted to see justice served when he found the evidence to convict the man of treason.

“What do you want?” he snapped, suddenly impatient and wanting to be somewhere other than here.

“I thought you would like to know,” Gisborne stared at him with hard dark eyes, “that I won’t be bothering Marian or her father anymore.”

“And why should I care?”

“Hmph,” the dark-haired man snorted, “you care Locksley.  I’ve heard the rumors, seen the evidence.”

Robin was silent, glaring at him.

Gisborne mounted his horse, “I’ve received my lands back and thus will be returning to London.”

“Forgive if I don’t wish you well on your trip, but I have my guests to entertain,” Robin gave him a mocking bow before Gisborne turned his horse around and galloped away.

He watched him go into the darkness of night, an uneasy feeling in his stomach.  Somehow, that man always seemed to make him feel skittish, something he did not like.  Mentally shrugging, he turned around and headed back to the party, its warm glow still going on into the night.

                                    *                      *                      *

**_June 12, 1192_ **

 

The villagers and peasants were milling about, some doing their morning chores; others just anticipating what were to happen in less than an hour or so.  News of Robin’s return to the Holy Lands had put a damper on the mood of Locksley village, even though everyone was happy that their Lord was reinstated to full status.  Many did not want to see their beloved Lord leave, yet they were afraid to voice their opinions.

In this way, Robin was glad that they didn’t say anything, even though he could read it plainly on their faces as he spent the morning readying his horse.  He occasionally glanced out beyond his manor’s boundaries to see some of the women and men looking forlorn.

If the peasants were this quiet, he definitely avoided the glances his men gave him as they stayed in his house for the past two days as guests.  Allan, Djaq, and Much had made light conversation with him while Little John was his usual silent self.  Will, however, was very quiet and withdrawn, occasionally giving him what Robin thought were kicked puppy looks.  He knew that the youngest member of their gang looked up to him like an almost older brother figure.  With his father and younger brother gone to Scarborough to hide from the sheriff, Will had no family left and probably considered the gang his family.

But he knew that with the pardoning of his men, Will’s family and even Little John’s would be able to return and live together again.  Will would be able to get over his departure in a few days; he would have his younger brother to take care of again…and probably the company of Djaq to whom he had been seeing a budding relationship pop up between the two.

“Master, at least let me come with you,” Much’s plaintive tone made him turn around from adjusting the strap of one of his bags onto Treaton’s saddle.  Rolling down the sleeves of his traveling shirt, he faced Much.  He knew he would receive another Crusader uniform when he arrived in London.

“Much,” Robin shook his head as he walked over and placed his hands firmly on Much’s shoulders, “I’m not your master anymore, and besides, you would suffer too much if you went with me.”

“But I went with you the first time, and look, see, I’m fine,” his good friend replied.

Robin looked down slightly before staring back at his friend, “Don’t think I haven’t seen you twist and turn in your sleep like you see me do.  We’ve both suffered a lot.  You yourself said to Dan Scarlett when first returned that we returned scathed.”

“And hungry.”

“And hungry,” he nodded before smiling sadly at him, “I don’t want you to come with me this time.”

“But, what about what you said when Harold was there.  You said that I was a good listener…that I could heal people’s souls.  I don’t-“ Much looked away for a second, grief evident on his face, “I don’t want you to go back into that bloody battlefield and come home like Harold!”

“I won’t,” Robin released his friend’s shoulders, “but _you_ will if you return back there.”

“I am-“

“You are soft Much,” he noticed the brief hurt look that appeared on his friends face and shook his head, “not like that, my friend.  You have a gentle soul, one that has been terribly tainted by the war.  I shouldn’t have taken you to the Holy Lands, if I knew what it would do to you.”

“I am fine, Master, it’s you that I worry about,” Much crossed his arms and pouted childishly, “I don’t want you to go.  I’ll die inside with worry, and I’ll die if you don’t come back.”

“Much,” Robin could see his friend’s heart breaking and he stared at him sadly.  It didn’t matter if he took him to the Holy Lands or left him there, Much had already been through so much, and to have the tenacity and will to continue to follow him through the fires of hell, he gave him less credit than he deserved.  “I will come back…”

“That’s not reassuring,” Much continued to pout.

“Then reassure me in my head that you will watch over Marian and the others.  Reassure me that they are safe until I return.  Reassure me that my estate here in Locksley is fine, and that your lands at Bonchurch are fine.  Reassure me that Eve, your love, will be fine.  Reassure me, Much,” Robin shook his friend’s shoulder to emphasize his point.

“What?” Much looked completely confused.

Robin glanced around for a second, making sure that no one was close enough to hear his next words before he leaned in close, his forehead almost touching Much’s.  “Something isn’t right here, Much.  Protect Marian and protect the others…the Sheriff will make his move when I am gone.”

“But he’s been arrested!  You saw Gisborne-“

“He says he’s going to London, but who knows!  You saw how James didn’t react when he says he was being put into a room instead of the dungeons!  He may not know…and I intend to find out when I get to London,” Robin said quietly.

“But-“

“I know, my status and all of this…it still doesn’t mean the Sheriff can plan something.  He has allies, Much.  Allies all over the place,” he continued, “protect Marian, protect the others.”

“When I do leave for the Holy Lands, you’ll be the only one that they can turn to.  You are the only one left who truly knows what is going on,” he stared into Much’s eyes, willing his good friend to understand what he was saying.

“I-I understand,” Much hastily nodded before Robin clapped him on the shoulder.

“Good,” he said loudly, as if the whispered chat they just had meant nothing, “then I will write you later my good friend.”

“Um…yeah, you too,” Much gave him a puzzling look before stepping back as he finished the last of the ties to the saddle and mounted Treaton with one swift movement.

“Well,” Robin looked down at his good friend, “I guess this is it.”

“Yeah,” Much blinked back tears, “this is it.  Good luck and god-speed.”

Robin nudged his horse to move and rode out of the manor.  He passed by Little John, Will, Djaq, and Allan, all whom had no expressions on their faces as they watched him go by on his way through the village.  He could see James and his men along with a couple of extra guards waiting for him on their horses and Robin rode up to them.

“Ready to go Robin?” James asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he gave him a sad smile before they started off.  They were only a few feet into the woods of Sherwood when Robin heard the shouts of the village’s children wishing him good luck along with some of the adults and his heart ached for them, but he dared not look behind to see his beloved village disappear as they headed further into the woods.

He was headed back to Jerusalem…back to war.

                                     *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            This is my first attempt at writing _Robin Hood_ fanfic, and I have to say, I fell in love with the series during the course of the summer.  If you’re read my other works, you’ll notice that I tend to favor drama and action in a majority of my fanfics and not so much emphasis on romance.  I hope you all of you enjoy my offerings I have to this fandom!  This is part 1 of 3.


	2. Part 2: Mistakes

Robin Hood: Well Met Steel

By: Shadow Chaser

Started: 8/8/07.

 

**Author’s Notes/Disclaimer:**

_Robin Hood_ and its characters do not belong to me.  I am not making a profit from this fic, this is just for amusement, especially that of my muses.  I graduated college with a minor in History, which included a lot of English and European history along with Eastern and Asiatic history so my knowledge of the Crusades is pretty thorough.

 

**Story:**

_Part 2 – Mistakes_

 

**_June 15, 1192_ **

 

**OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE**

 

The normal pace to get to London was at least a week and a half by horseback, but a few days into their journey, Robin had a feeling that they were going a lot slower than usual and he told himself it was probably James letting him enjoy the English air before he would have to return to the scorching dry heat of the sandy Holy Lands.

In the time he had traveled with James, he had learned a few interesting tidbits of what was at least the most current intelligence regarding the Saracens and King Richard’s campaign.  Jerusalem was a battlefield everyday and all of the civilians who had been living in the city had either fled or were driven underground.  They had made a few allies within the community, but a majority of the people living there were Saracens.  The Jewish populace, seeing that the Catholic Church denounced them and the Muslims did not acknowledge them, wanted nothing to do with the war have tried to broker peace between the two factions, but with unsuccessful results.

“How is the King?” he asked after a few minutes of silence in between their conversations.

“Battle-weary,” James replied giving him an even look, “but he is confident that the mission in the Holy Lands that Pope Gregory and God commanded will happen soon.”

“He needs to come back soon.  You’ve seen how the lands have changed since Prince John took over and gave out the shires,” Robin commented, looking around at the cloudy surroundings.

“These wars take time.  The Saracens don’t give up easily.  You’ve seen how they fight, how they act.  You yourself prevented at least three assassination attempts while there,” James tilted his head, letting his helmet slide slightly to his left, “which by the way, I commend you for your last one.  We all thought you weren’t going to make it after that grievous wound you received.”

Robin resisted the urge to flinch at the mention of his wound and wondered if he should tell James who the real assassin was during that last attempt.  After a second of contemplation, he decided not to; he needed proof first and there was no need to voice his feelings just yet.  Maybe he would find the proof he needed in the Holy Lands, especially if some of his Arabic allies were still alive there.

He hadn’t admitted to anyone except to the King himself that he had grasped a lot of the Saracen language during his five years there.  While he knew he hadn’t mastered the language and knew that he probably would never master it, it was his understanding of the language that prevented a majority of the assassination attempts on his King.

Djaq and probably Much were the only two of his men that had suspicions towards his knowledge of the language and understanding of what the Saracen culture was.  The others were mostly ignorant of that fact.

“Now I guess my little holiday is over and I’m headed back,” he commented.

“Robin, we need you there,” James shook his head, looking away into the distant green woods and rolling hills of the countryside, “things have been different since you were ordered back home.  Tomas is in charge of the King’s Guard now and he isn’t like you.  Sure he stopped a few more attempts, but many of the men don’t like him, especially the other generals.”

“But Tomas was my second-in-command,” Robin was puzzled.  He knew that Tomas of Rufford was probably one of the most beloved leaders in the army.  He had a good head and hand for command and it was one of the reasons why he chose the grizzled middle-aged man to be his second-in-command.

“That’s because he bowed down to your wishes.  He was biding time, waiting for the moment when you would return to England so he could take over the King’s Guard and rule it with an iron fist.  He’s been terrorizing the other generals.  King Richard doesn’t believe it, but then again, he’s been away to many sorties so often that he doesn’t realize it,” James shook his head before pointing to his chest area, “I would show you the scar I ‘accidentally’ got from that man during one of our toughest battles yet.”

“But isn’t the Third Guard supposed to be the on the outer edges of the battles?”

“Tomas was the one who encouraged King Richard to leave you before heading south.  He joined up with the Third Guard to advance the campaign,” James gave a derisive snort.

Robin narrowed his eyes, confused.  Somehow, he didn’t believe a word James said.  He knew Tomas…the man wasn’t as power-hungry as James made him out to be.  But then again, personalities and goals changed people while they were in the Holy Land.  He himself had changed during his time in the Holy Land.  Maybe Tomas had changed too?

“But since you’re going back,” the Crusader clapped him on the shoulder, “you can properly end this war, at least the infighting between our men.  If there is one thing everyone in the King’s forces knows, is that you are the peacemaker.  You have the ability to rally people around a cause and we lost that when you were gone.”

While Robin knew that James was trying to cheer him up, he felt less cheered by the news.  He knew deep in his heart, he wasn’t keen on going back into the battlefield, back to bloodshed and killing, even if things were as messed up as they seemed.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

Market Day had returned to Nottingham with much fanfare and joy.  Peasants and traders from all over the shire and even outside of the shire had flocked to Nottingham to trade their wares and sell their goods.  There were sideshow entertainment by jesters and performance artists who entertained young children and women with their outlandish costumes and mock commentary of people like the ex-Sheriff Vaysey, Robin Hood, and even the nasty Guy of Gisborne.  They portrayed some outlandish battles that Robin Hood had with the ex-Sheriff to the joy of the peasants and nobles who watched.

Rank didn’t really mean a thing today as both peasants and nobles wandered around the bustling marketplace, reveling in the new money they acquired and buying things all over the place.  Everyone was in high spirits, everyone except for one man.

Much wandered around the streets of Nottingham, forlorn and a bit lost.  His cheeks were a bit tinged with pink, a sign that he had a bit too much to drink at the local pub and he stumbled into a basket full of fruit before sloppily righting it and continuing on his way down the streets.

The rest of Robin’s former gang were also in Nottingham, mostly to see what was going on, but also for some to say their farewells to the people they knew.  Will and Allan had decided that they would head to Scarborough to find Will’s father and younger brother and invite them back to live in Locksley.  Djaq still hadn’t made up her mind whether to follow the two men or to set off on her own to Kirklees to the nunnery where Robin had once long ago promised her that the Abbess there would be able to find her transport back to her native lands.

Little John hadn’t told them if he would send for Alice and his son since they were probably living with Luke the Cooper and instead, the big man was still very quiet with his new found freedom and pardon.  Much had his lodgings at Bonchurch and was contemplating sending for Eve, but Robin’s warning for him to keep an eye on Marian and her father when he was gone still lingered in his head.  He wished that his master—former master, he amended silently to himself, was still here.  He really didn’t like the idea that Robin had left him here in England while he was going back into what he called the pits of hell.

Couldn’t Robin understand that he was willing to follow him there?  Follow him from hell and back, to even die for him?  He had known Robin since he was a young boy; his mother had indentured herself as one of the maids within the Locksley household.  His first thought was that Robin was a self-centered little bastard who thought of nothing of himself.  Even then, Robin pushed him around, made fun of him, and even occasionally knocked him around during what he deemed weapons training.  The only spark of humanity that he had seen that made his opinion change of Robin was after a year and half of meeting him, a fire had broken out in the kitchens of Locksley manor and his mother was caught inside along with a couple of the cooks.

He had tried to get his mother out, but the fires were too intense and had watched helplessly, unable to save his mother.  It was then that he saw Robin jump boldly into the fire and successfully not pull out one of the servants stuck in there, but had also pulled his mother out, albeit to the danger of his own health.  However, his mother did not survive much longer afterwards, having breathed in too much smoke and subsequently died soon after.

Robin had too suffered in the process and while he was recovering, Much swore fealty and loyalty to protect and die for his young master for saving his mother.

  Now he felt lost and alone without Robin by his side, but he would obey and heed the last command his master gave him, protect Marian and protect Edward from anything the ex-Sheriff Vaysey would throw at them.

“-a clue: no.  You see-“

Much halted in his wanderings and was mildly surprise to find himself within the castle walls.  Sheriff Edward had declared that no guard would hinder anyone who wished to wander around the castle during his tenure, something that was revoked when Sheriff Vaysey was in charge.  The only places someone wasn’t allowed in were the vault, dungeons, kitchens, and personal quarters of the Sheriff.

That voice that had risen slightly yet fell muffled again sounded very similar to Sheriff Vaysey’s and Much glanced at the unguarded door that he stopped in front of before looking around to make sure no other guards were nearby before creeping closer, hoping he could hear more.

“-now, the people will hate us.  No, we must be quiet in our approach.  We have to let him think that he is invulnerable at the moment, he can’t be touched.  That he has the backing he needs before we can move,” the muffled voice of Vaysey came through the door.

Much narrowed his eyes, pressing his ear closer.

“But what about Hood?” the unrecognizable voice of one of the nobles asked.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah,” the ex-Sheriff replied, “who cares about Hood?  He’s gone for now.”

“Are you sure this will work?”

“Of course-“

“Hey!”

Much jumped slightly before turning around to see a guard approaching him, weapon brandished menacingly at him.

“W-Who, me?” he asked stupidly, looking around.

“Yeah you!  What are you doing there?” the guard asked, approaching him.

“Um…nothing,” Much backed away slightly, “just…”  He gulped as the guard pointed his spear at him, pinning him against the door.  “Heh…just…”

“Oy,” the guard called loudly towards the door, “I think you have a spy.”

There was a scuffle of locks being unlocked before the door opened and Much fell to the ground.  He scrambled up and turned around to find himself staring into the evilly smiling faces of the ex-Sheriff and four other nobles whom he vaguely recognized as the Sheriff’s most vocal supporters in the villages surrounding the shire.  He was vaguely surprised not to see any hide or hair of Guy of Gisborne there.

“Um…hi,” he rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants, “I’m Much, Earl of Bonchurch…”

“We know who you are,” the Sheriff smiled at him, making him feel small and insignificant, “and I think you were a naughty little boy for listening in.  Didn’t your parents tell you never to eavesdrop on your betters?”

Much didn’t even get a chance to reply as a sudden painful blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling to the ground.  Before blackness claimed his vision and he lost consciousness he could hear the evil laughter of the Sheriff ringing in his ears.

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE**

 

Night had fallen and they had set up camp within a small cluster of woods to protect them from the windy elements of the open fields and from any ambush by bandits or outlaws in the area.  The four guards that had accompanied them rotated their watches, wary of any attackers.

But Robin was completely oblivious to anything happening around him, as he shifted in his bedroll, a dream consuming him.

_He stood in the latest carnage that graced the bloody sands of the area they had fought in.  The locals called this place Arsuf, thirty miles north of_ _Jaffa_ _, the city that the King had originally planned to take to launch another offensive at Saladin.  They were fresh from their victory at_ _Acre_ _, though it was won with a lot of losses to the King’s army.  It was 1191 and King Richard felt confident that his push towards_ _Jerusalem_ _was going well._

_The rubble of the town of_ _Arsuf_ _surrounded him along with the limbs of those he had cut down.  Saladin had ambushed them on their march and Robin barely had any time to scramble a force together to prevent the King from being routed.  He had sent messengers out to the Third Guard and Second Guards, both whom had been in the area, scouting ahead to send soldiers back to help them defend the city._

_Still, he knew that this was only a lull in the battle.  They had successfully pushed back two waves of Saladin’s forces without the help of the Second and Third Guards, but Robin wondered how long they would be able to hold out.  He could feel his limbs deaden from exhaustion, his hands barely holding onto his broadsword as he scanned the area._

_His lieutenant, Tomas of Rufford was nearby, shouting orders to the various survivors to clear the field of the bodies of those that fallen, piling them up to the side.  They would probably set fire to the bodies later since digging mass graves was a pointless task of wasting energy and manpower.  Next to him was Much, hunched over his breaths coming in great gasps.  He himself had already steadied his breathing through sheer force of will.  There was no need to panic the troops if they saw him as exhausted as he felt.  But he gently patted his manservant on the back._

_“Take it easy Much…there will be more.  Conserve your energy,” he said gently._

_“Yes – huff – Master,” Much nodded before uncorking his water bag and taking a long gulp before corking it back on and putting it within his bag hidden inside his cloak._

_Robin walked the battlefield, occasionally helping some of his men up to their feet while Much handed them his water bag to take drinks.  He knew that a majority of the King’s commanders didn’t really associate themselves with the troops, but Robin did so because it reminded him that he still had a piece of humanity left in him and that it wasn’t stabbed away by all of the killings he had done._

_“Bless you Captain, thank you,” a few of the troops called out as the water bag was passed around._

_Robin just nodded at them, his eyes occasionally scanning the horizon and rubble filled streets of the town to make sure that no Saracen was going to ambush them._

_“Master!  A scout!” Much suddenly called out and Robin turned around to see one of their scouts, galloping towards him.  A few seconds later, the scout reached him.  “Milord!  The Third Guard!” the scout took a deep breath and shook his head, “They’re-“_

_“Slow down soldier,” Robin placed a firm hand on the man’s leg as he shook his head and took a few more deep breaths._

_“Sire, they’re…you must stop them!  It’s…horrible!”_

_“What?  What’s horrible?” Much had come over and a few of the soldiers were beginning to look interested in the conversation._

_“They’re pillaging the town, sire…and beating the women and children, even raping them!” the soldier looked completely disgusted._

_Robin felt a pit of anger form inside of him.  If there was one thing that he didn’t like about the King’s forces was that a majority of them had no concept of dignity or of chivalry.  He had trained the King’s Guard not to do any of those things and some of men in the other Guards had also begun to follow his lead.  There was no need to further anger the Muslims or Jewish people in the area with their barbaric acts since they were already killing them._

_“Tell Tomas I will be heading deeper into the town.  This has to stop,” he growled, to the scout who nodded and wheeled his horse away to find his second-in-command._

_“Master, surely you would take a contingent of men with you?” Much looked worriedly at him as they set off deeper into the rubble-filled town, side-stepping some of the bodies._

_“I’m sure the Third Guard would be more than willing to kill anyone who tried to attack them.  I need to have a talk with their commander,” he set his jaw.  The Third Guard had been sent ahead to provide intelligence and a first strike offensive originally for_ _Jaffa_ _but since the ambush at Arsuf, they had been recalled to defend the main forces.  Robin heard rumors that the Third Guard were bloodthirsty, ruthless men and loved killing for fun.  He heard that they were drunk on the blood shed throughout the whole war and that they had turned into madmen.  Even so, it did not justify the pillaging of a town that had already been turned into mostly rubble, nor did it justify the torture and raping of helpless women and children._

_He knew the vague area of Arsuf that the Third Guard held and his predictions were right on the mark when he encountered a group of Crusaders pushing two children around; a young girl who was trying to protect her younger brother, the girl looking no more than eight-years-old._

_“Excuse me!” he called out loudly, startling the soldiers.  The girl immediately took advantage of their momentary distraction and grabbed her brother’s hand and ran away._

_“Oy!  Come back here!” one of the soldiers tried to swipe for them but missed and instead turned upon him and Much.  “You better have a good reason you bloody fool for interrupting our fun.”  All the other soldiers grinned at them in a menacing way but Robin just stared at them with icy cold blue eyes._

_“I wouldn’t consider it fun to push around and harm a young girl and her brother, would you?” he said in calm tone._

_“Who the hell are you?” another one of the soldiers stepped up, completely towering over him.  “We’re the Third Guard!  A pea brain like you better show us some respect!”_

_“Excuse me-“ Robin held up a hand to silence Much who backed down, fuming._

_“Uh…hey, Robert…I wouldn’t-“_

_“Shaddup!” the man towering over him named Robert shot back at one of the other soldiers._

_“No, I’m serious Robert-“_

_“When I want your opinion, I’ll get it, okay Dennis?!”_

_“I would listen to your friend there, soldier,” Robin raised an eyebrow at Robert before glancing down at his own uniform which held an emblem, indicating what unit he was and what rank he held._

_Robert also looked down at the same spot before his face turned as pale as a sheet and he backed up and dropped to one knee._

_“Begging your forgiveness milord!” the tall man blubbered, “I mean no disrespect!”_

_“Where’s your commander?” he asked icily._

_“Two buildings down on your right sire,” the man replied before Robin brushed passed him._

_“I expect you lot to clean up your act!  Next time, the King will hear about it,” he called back as he made his way towards where the soldier had indicated the Third Guard’s commander was._

_He found James lounging in opulence, surrounded by a few Saracen women and children whom he apparently had taken prisoner.  They were serving him with various foods, fanning him, and even massaging him.  A well of disgust filled Robin as he was stared at James who looked completely pleased with his surroundings._

_“Ah, Robin, good to see you, come, want a date?” James indicated to a bowl of the food sitting next to him, held by a girl who looked no more than five._

_“Has a perimeter been set up?” he asked quietly, ignoring the man’s question._

_“Of course,” James shrugged before waving to his men milling about outside beyond the building he was in.  “They’re doing it.”_

_“And how are you helping the populace out?”_

_“You jest,” James smiled at him, “I am giving them something to do.”_

_“Serve you like slaves,” Robin shot back._

_“They would do the same to us, if you haven’t noticed,” James replied, giving him a warning look that Robin completely ignored._

_“We are not that barbaric!” he said loudly, startling a few of the women and children, “I would have thought that you’d be out, making sure that the King and the rest of our men are safe!”_

_“I seem to remember that,” James stood up, knocking over the girl who held the plate of dates in the process, “that was your job, you know, to protect the King.”_

_“Yours is the advance guard,” he replied, stepping closer so that they were almost nose to nose._

_“Tread carefully Captain…you wouldn’t want an incident to happen do you?” James said in an icy tone._

_“Incident?” Robin gave him a half menacing smile, “I would like to think that applies to you.”_

_“Oh, no…I mean for you, in battle.  It be a pity,” the commander of the Third Guard replied, letting the rest of his statement hang._

_“I’ll be keeping an eye on you James,” Robin said before stepping back and turning to the women and children who were staring at the two of them.  “You’re all free to go.  Bury your husbands, your brothers, your sons, and your families.  Leave this city before sundown and you may survive.  Saladin’s men will be back,” he said in his best Arabic as possible._

_Apparently his message got through as all of the Saracen people there stared at him for a second before running out of the room, some of the women chatting rapidly in Arabic to their children, ushering them along.  Robin pointedly stared at James, daring him to do anything, but the man just gave him a blank look._

_Seeing that his work was done, he turned around and started to head back to the other side of the town…_

Robin blinked open his eyes suddenly, finding himself staring up at the starry night sky of the English countryside.  His left thigh ached slightly from the dream as he remembered James’ warning from the past.  Saladin had launched a counter attack right after sundown, after prayer time and in the thick of the battle, Robin didn’t know if it was one of Saladin’s men that had sliced at him or perhaps James himself, but he had received a deep wound to his left thigh.  It had nearly put him out of commission, but he had managed to keep himself upright on his horse and launch a successful route of part of Saladin’s forces away from the King and back towards the waiting hungry swords of the Third Guard.

Shaking his head, he propped himself up from his bedroll and looked around, seeing that almost everyone except for the lone guard on watch a bit away from the camp was asleep.  He had a suspicious feeling about James ever since his men found him in the trap they had set up.  Though he never voiced his suspicions, hoping that the man had changed for the better during his time in the Crusades, he couldn’t help but wonder.

He sat up and glanced down at his pack that he used as a makeshift pillow.  Rummaging through it, he pulled out the letter James gave to him from King Richard and stared at the red seal of King Richard’s signet ring holding the paper together and also at the seal within the letter.  He scooted a bit closer to the fire for a better look at the seal.

After a few minutes of staring at it, he put the letter down and pulled out another piece of parchment, this one also with the seal of King Richard and the seal within the letter.  This particular piece of parchment was the letter Richard left for him when he was recovering from his near-fatal wound before the King headed south.

He picked up the letter James gave to him in one hand and held the letter from Richard himself in the other, staring at the loopy strokes of writing.  He wasn’t an expert on handwriting, but both seemed to bear the same style…

Suddenly his eyes found something puzzling and he peered closer at the bottom of both letters, right where the seal of the signet ring was.  He remembered getting a couple of letters from King Richard, including one where he was called up to volunteer in the King’s Crusade.  He also remembered receiving messages on the battlefields of the Holy Lands with Richard’s mark on them.  He also remembered one particular incident where the King had accidentally broke his signet ring in a fit of rage during one of their earlier campaigns against Saladin.

He immediately had another commissioned for him, with the same seal, but there was one particular change within the seal.  It wasn’t a square outline anymore; rather, it was circular in shape.

This seal that James gave him bore the mark of a square signet…the one he received from the King personally was circular in shape.

Robin folded both parchments back up again and placed them inside the folds of his clothing, before he glanced over to the others in their party.  He didn’t know what connection James had with Sheriff Vaysey, but he knew that he was in a precarious position.  There were probably only two reasons why James was taking him to London, it could have been to send him back to the Holy Lands and get rid of a pest within Vaysey’s realm, but it could also mean throwing him into the dungeons of Prince John’s castle.

He knew he had to get back to Nottingham…everyone was in grave danger.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

“Where did he go?” Djaq asked throwing her hands up in frustration as she looked around at the peasants milling about in the early morning hours of Nottingham town.

They had all spent part of yesterday looking for Much before turning in for the night at Locksley manor, vowing to return the next day to Nottingham to look for their friend.  Allan had made a couple of quips about Much being so worried and lonely that he had gotten himself completely drunk in the local pub and was probably spending the night under a table or something.

Now, they had been searching for the past couple of hours, asking peasants and traders if they had seen Much, with not even a word on their erstwhile companion.  It was starting to prove frustrating, as evident by Little John beating a helpless grain sack to the point where it burst open.

“I mean, he could have headed after Robin, you know?” Allan shrugged as they walked along, Djaq peeking in a couple of barrels.

“No…I don’t think so,” Will was staring at a familiar looking horse that had been left on one of the side streets.  It was definitely Much’s horse as his signature multi-colored poncho-sweater-thing was hanging from one of the bags on the saddle.  “Look,” he pointed at the horse, “that’s his horse.  He didn’t leave here…”

“Well then, where is he?!  We’ve asked everyone including the Sheriff!  No one knows where that idiot went to!” Djaq vented loudly.

“The banner of Prince John is coming!  The banner of Prince John is coming!” someone suddenly shouted near them and all stared at each other puzzled, before heading towards the main street of Nottingham to see what was the hubbub about.

They arrived just in time to see men dressed in black armor, all holding spears with the banner of Prince John on them ride into Nottingham, plowing past a few peasants that were unfortunate to have crossed their paths or weren’t fast enough to get out of the way.

Djaq seized Will’s arm and shook her head in a warning to stop him from doing anything rash.  She had a bad feeling about those men on the horses.  They looked like the Crusaders that had stormed her family’s house at night and slaughtered her father, mother, and twin brother all those nights ago before leaving her for dead in the rubble of their home.

“Make way!  Make way!” the lead soldier on one of the horses shouted before he halted in front of the stone steps before the castle.  Edward and Marian were hastily making their way down to greet the soldiers.

“What can we do for the Prince’s guard?” the Sheriff asked.

“You can admit treason against the Crown,” the soldier sneered before gesturing to his men, “arrest Edward Fitzwalter and his daughter.”

“No!” Djaq shouted as the rest of the mounted men pointed their spears at the surprised and shocked expressions of Marian and her father before behind them, the guards also drew their swords and pointed it at the two.

“Oh,” the soldier said loudly, “and arrest Robin Hood’s men too.”

Djaq and the others suddenly found themselves surrounded by guards that they didn’t know had approached them silently.  It was only until a very familiar looking face stepped out from one of the nearby stands that she realized this whole thing, all the letters and everything else afterwards, was one giant set up.

“Pity Locksley can’t get you lot out of this one,” Guy of Gisborne smiled wolfishly at them.

                                    *                      *                      *

In the next few hours, peasants that had vocally supported Edward as the Sheriff or Robin Hood were rounded up and chained to the outside of the castle.  Djaq, Will, Little John, and Allan were thrown into the dungeons while Edward and Marian were confined to separate quarters, each with a guard posted outside.

Vaysey was reinstated the Sheriff and all looked bleak for the whole of Nottinghamshire.

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTSKIRTS OF NOTTINGHAMSHIRE**

 

With the knowledge that this whole thing was a charade, Robin watched the guards with careful eyes, his mind thinking of different ways of escaping the eyes of his captor.  He needed to return to Nottingham as soon as possible, if it wasn’t too late already.  He didn’t understand if the slowed pace they had been taking was to delay him so that he wouldn’t know that they were setting a trap for his friends or was it something else.

He knew that this was probably going to be a stupid idea in the long run, but he never shied away from anything and part of him could already hear Much’s plaintive voice telling him not to do it, but he shushed that part up.  “James, might I ask you a question?” he glanced over at the Crusader who had a blank look on his face.

“Hmm?  Sure,” it was now that Robin could see the malice in the Crusader’s eyes that wasn’t there before.  How he could have missed that expression since a few days ago was beyond him, but now he knew better.

“As far as I can tell, these woods don’t look like the ones Much and I passed by on our way back from London,” he looked around, making another quick head and weapon count of the men that surrounded them, “are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Of course we are, why do you say that?”

“Because,” he shrugged, “I think we’re going towards Birmingham, not London.  Maybe a roundabout route?  But from what I remember, Birmingham is known for its trade and for the hub of prisoner transport.”

James shook his head, “Robin, you’re just worried, that’s all.  I know it’s going to be hard for you to leave your friends, that’s why I’m taking this at a slower pace.”

“Taking what?”

“Your letter?  Your recall from the King to return to the Holy Lands – Robin did you eat some of the wild mushrooms growing by the side of the road last night?  Have you gone daft?”

“No, but I think you have,” Robin said quietly, staring at James with a hardened gaze, “tell me something, Atherstone; is this really on the Sheriff’s orders, or is it Prince John’s?”

James stared at him for a split second before a cruel smile curled up on his lips, “I see that you’ve managed to put two and two together Locksley.  I don’t know how you did it-“

“-my leg injury and your penchant for cruelty and subterfuge.  As I recall, that was what the Third Guard was really good it, wasn’t it?”

“It was, but since you now know,” he snapped his fingers as they stopped in the middle of the road and Robin looked around to see all four guards surrounding him, their spears and swords pointed straight at him.  “Do not resist Locksley.”

“I don’t intend to,” Robin held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, “but do you think taking me to London will be the best thing?  If this is truly Prince John or the Sheriff’s work, you think my allies would free me?”

“Oh no, Locksley,” James’ smile got wider, “Prince John doesn’t want you in London.  He’s too smart for that.  He knows having you in London, whether or not brought in quietly or publicly wouldn’t do well for his own support base.  He knows that your mere presence could incite a revolt amongst the peasants and some of the nobles who have been conspiring against him.  Whereas yes, he could use you to take down the nobles that rise up against him, it’s too much of a hassle.”

“No,” James shook his head, “we’re taking you back to Nottingham.  You will be hanged for the whole of the shire to see.”

“You know,” Robin tilted his head, “the Sheriff did say that once or twice and it never really did work.”

“This time it will work, Locksley.  Trust me.  I have the element of surprise and a few extras that you don’t know about,” James made a cutting gesture with his hand.

Robin didn’t see the blow coming, but he felt a brief flash of pain behind his head before blackness claimed him.

James watched the young man slump into his saddle, knocked out, a wide smile gracing his aristocratic features before he nodded to the other two soldiers who dismounted and proceeded to bind Locksley’s hands and feet in shackles.  His little plan of revenge was turning out much better than he anticipated and if Prince John upheld his part of the bargain, he would have all of Robin’s dearest friends in the dungeons already.

“You should have killed me back in Arsuf, Locksley…” he muttered before wheeling his horse around and started back towards Nottingham.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **CASTLE**

 

Marian paced around in the bedchamber that was her prison, the shock of having been betrayed and taken prisoner long gone and now impatience and anxiety was settling in.  She didn’t know where her father had been taken, but she knew that they wouldn’t harm her father because they needed him.  A part of her was also worried for Robin, if he knew that this whole thing was a set up by both Prince John and Sheriff Vaysey.  Vaysey had come and gloated to her only a few hours before, having been reinstated to his position by a letter he waved in front of her face, apparently signed with the seal of Prince John.

A knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts and she looked up to see the door open to admit the last person she wanted to see at the moment.  “Sir Guy,” she said neutrally as he stepped in, closing the door behind him.  His presence made the small room almost smaller and she involuntarily took a step back.  “I thought you were en route to London.”

“Don’t play coy with me, Marian,” Guy’s piercing gaze raked hers as he walked closer to her, “I am not here to spar words with you.”

“Spar?” Marian gave him a hesitant sad smile, “then was the letter Sir James gave you all a lie?”

He looked away for a second before shaking his head, “No.  I do have my lands back, but for a price.”

“A price,” Marian looked away, finding the knothole on a part of her small end table very interesting.

“I’m sorry, Marian,” Guy’s sincere and soft tone made her turn back and stare at him again.  “I didn’t want to do it, but in return of the Gisborne lands and estate, I am now a man of true status, of power.”

“Congratulations,” Marian desperately wanted to be elsewhere other than talking with Sir Guy.  While she would never admit to, especially to Robin, she felt somewhat attracted to the man for his attempts of sincerity towards her, but he also made her afraid of him for his brutal and callous actions.  Though she herself had occasionally strung Gisborne along, she had her reasons, especially to feed Robin information and to protect him from Gisborne’s wrath.

“The Gisborne estate…is wealthy, with vast lands and holdings.  It is bigger than three of the villages in Nottinghamshire put together,” he walked away from her and stared out of the single window in her room, out into the afternoon sun that was just dipping to the ground.

“It is the good…for the standings of any noble,” he continued in a hesitant voice and Marian started to feel a thrill of dread filling her.  He turned around and stared at her with his piercing blue eyes.

“I can save you, Marian,” he said, a note of pleading in his voice.

“How?” she replied, the dread growing stronger.

“Marry me.”

“But Sir Guy-“

“I know I was wrong to lie to you about King Richard’s return almost two weeks ago,” Gisborne ducked his head, “and I forgive you for hitting me and then riding off with Locksley-“

Marian didn’t miss the note of disgust and derision in his voice when he said Robin’s name.

“-but we are still engaged, Marian…”

“You lied to me,” Marian couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice as she stared at him openly, “you lied to me and you expect us to be engaged?”

“It’s the only way I can save you!” he suddenly shouted, startling her, “it’s the only way I can _still_ save you!”

“Still?!” Marian caught his words carefully.

Gisborne shook his head, heaving a deep breath, “Prince John and the Sheriff expect to execute you and your father within the next few days once Locksley is brought back here.”

She felt the blood drain out of her face and grabbed one of the bedposts in order to steady herself.  Execution?  She knew that she had toed and even crossed the line a few times, but execution?!

“I can save you.  All you have to do is agree to marry me as soon as possible.  You cannot wait for King Richard to return.  The suspicion fallen upon you is too great in order to enact a delay.  Even the Sheriff won’t see that now,” in two strides, Gisborne was in front of her and held her tightly by the arms, his face inches from her, “please Marian.”

“What about my father?” Marian was still too shocked to comprehend how close they were.

“He’s in too deep,” Gisborne shook his head, “I cannot save him.  Only you, Marian.  I do this for you; because…you are my friend and…I…I feel something for you.”

It was then that she finally registered how close their bodies were and she stared up into his blue-eyed gaze, seeing the hunger of passion inside of them, reflected back onto her.  “If you do feel something for me,” she replied coolly, rejecting those passion-filled eyes, “save my father.”

He gave a growl of frustration as he suddenly released her and stalked away back towards the door, “I can’t Marian!  He’s in too deep!  Prince John and the Sheriff will execute him for usurping the position of Sheriff!”

“On those fake orders!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he shook his head.

“If you cannot save him, then I am sorry,” Marian turned around and stared out of the window, her hands wringing together, “I can’t marry you.”

There were a few minutes of silence and she knew that he didn’t leave.  But his next words made her blood run cold.  “I am sorry too, milady.  I was hoping you could prevent me from carrying out my next orders, but seeing that you can’t, I have no choice.”

“Choice?” she turned around, tears coming unbidden to her eyes.

“I have orders to kill your father,” he said gravely before opening the door and leaving before she had a chance to register what he had said.

It was then that the tears that had been forming in her eyes spilled down her cheeks.  “What have I done…” she whispered.

                                    *                      *                      *

They were all placed in separate cells, except for Djaq who had been thrown into the same cell as Much, and ordered to tend to the battered and bruised man who clearly had been tortured long before they had arrived in the dungeons.

“How is he?” Will asked as he stared across the from the cell that Djaq was in, who was turning Much over, the man’s face scrunching up in pain at the movement.

“Shh, shh, it is me, Djaq,” Djaq said quietly, “I’m only making sure you don’t have anything that could be bleeding on the inside.”

“Can you not touch that spot…they’ve been at it for a while,” Will felt a wash of relief fill him as he heard Much complain.  He never really told any of the gang as it didn’t seem right, but he constantly worried over everyone, especially Robin who seemed to bear so much of an unseen burden on his shoulders.  He had to admit, even if he wasn’t indebted to Robin for saving his life, the noble did had a persona that exuded confidence, yet a hint of war-weary sadness.

Before, he would follow Robin anywhere, even to the pits of hell and back.  But now, one other person also ranked high on the list he would do anything for, Djaq.  He was attracted to her strong and forceful personality and the gentle side that he rarely saw from her.  He had confessed in a spur of the moment to the others that he loved her, though he would never admit it in front of her, he made it his duty to make sure that she was happy and perhaps would return the feelings he had for her.

But even so, he was glad Much was okay, though looking worst for wear.  He had seen the man’s heart break at the sight of being left behind by his former master and didn’t envy him.  He too was sad that Robin had been leaving for the Holy Lands and had childishly pouted in the days following the party at Locksley manor.  He felt abandoned and knew that while he had a family in Scarborough, he also felt that the gang was his second family, especially Allan who was like a surrogate brother to him.  To him, Robin was the older brother he never had someone he could look up to and emulate.

But now, part of him was afraid; afraid for Robin, for Allan, for the rest of the gang, and especially for Djaq.  The Sheriff knew that Djaq was a girl and a horrible feeling washed over him before a deep seeded anger replaced it.  If they so much as harm one hair on Djaq…

The rattling sound of the main doors to the dungeons being unlocked brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see two guards, the jail keeper, and Sheriff Vaysey walk towards them.

“Ah…just the people I wanted to see,” the Sheriff gave them a congenial smile, “how are we feeling right now?  Hmm?  Not so high and mighty are we?  Hmm?”

Will resolved to stay silent in the face of the Sheriff’s taunts before and out of the corner of his eyes, he could see that the others were also giving the Sheriff stony looks.

“Well,” the Sheriff didn’t seemed disturbed by their silence and instead clasped his hands together, “lets get the party started shall we?  Take…him!”

Somehow, Will expected the Sheriff to choose him; after all he was the youngest of all of them and probably looked the most stubborn aside from Little John.  He didn’t protest, didn’t say a word as the guards dragged him out of his cell and shook his head imperceptibly at Djaq who looked like she was about to say something as they pushed him down a few stone steps and across to the other side of the dungeons.

The door to the torture chamber room opened with a loud creak and Will took a quick look around for anything that he would be able to use as a tool and spotted a few things.  He had a feeling that the Sheriff would torture him until he was unconscious and battered like Much and knew that he didn’t have much time to steal one of the tools and place it in his boot before they started.

He tensed, waiting for the inevitable shove that usually came when the guards dumped him into the room…now!  As soon as their grips on his arms slackened he pivoted on his feet and punched on the guards in the face, a shot of pain traveling through his arm as his fist also connected with the side of the guard’s helmet before he dove towards one of the tables holding a multitude of smallish objects, some with flat sharp ends.  Using a few tricks he picked up from Allan and his sleight-of-hand, he pocketed one of the smaller torture tools into his boot before his other hand grasped a slightly bigger object and pointed it like a sword towards the guards, the Sheriff, and the jail keeper.

“Hmm…you’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that,” the Sheriff mockingly clapped at him and he continued to stay silent.  “Come now, put that thing down…”

The two guards, one of them still shaking his head from the punch that he gave him earlier advanced towards him, their swords drawn.  He stared warily at the two of them, backing up slowly until he could feel his back against the wall.

“Let my friends go,” Will said, marveling at how steady his voice was while his heart was beating as fast and as loudly as a hammer.

“Or you’ll do what, little whelp?  You can’t do anything and Robin Hood isn’t coming to your aide.  Oh no,” the Sheriff gave him an evil smile, “if at all, I think you’ll find that Hood’s going to hang first before all of you.”

“He’ll come,” Will stared defiantly at the Sheriff but before he even got a chance to attack the guards, the door suddenly opened and to Will’s horror, even more guards came in.  He knew that he had an easy chance to overpower the two guards, jail keeper and perhaps the Sheriff, but now with at least eight more coming in…

“You see…you can’t win,” the Sheriff smiled as the eight guards that had just come in all drew their swords and pointed it at him.

Outnumbered, Will dropped his makeshift weapon and held up his hands in surrender.

                                    *                      *                      *

**OUTSIDE** **NOTTINGHAM** **TOWN**

 

The first thing that greeted Robin was a painful throbbing in the back of his head as he cracked open his eyes.  The second thing was a vision of his hands and legs bound to shackles, one running underneath the belly of his horse and around his legs, the other tying his hands together.

Blinking his eyes a few more times he glanced up and resisted the urge to wince as the bright sunlight beat its rays down upon his eyes.

“Good afternoon Robin, so glad you can join us,” James’ oily voice made him turn in his saddle to see the Crusader riding next to him, a congenial smile on his face.

He noticed that James was carrying his recurved bow and arrows and a quick glance around himself showed that he had been stripped of all of his weaponry, including his favorite Saracen sword.

“We aren’t that far out of Nottingham town,” James replied before gesturing further down the dirt path they were traveling.  In the distance, Robin could see the dark grey walls of Nottingham and beyond that, the town’s structures.  He realized that either he had been knocked out for a long time or they really had been traveling very slowly in a wide circle.

A wave of dizziness suddenly passed over him and this time, Robin couldn’t really keep the grimace off of his face and he leaned against his horse’s mane, half-closing his eyes.

“Water?” James said and offered him a water sack to which he took and drank down a few gulps, soothing his parched throat and driving the dizziness away.

“Thank you,” he handed the water bag back, “so why are you taking me back to Nottingham?  I’m sure you know I’ve made my escapes from there many times.”

“Public spectacle, Locksley, public spectacle,” James shrugged, “and don’t worry, I have my finest guards and those that Prince John provided for me to keep a strict eye on you.”

Robin gave him a skeptical look.  Already a plan was starting to form in his head.  He knew that if he escaped now, he wouldn’t put it beneath James to torture or even kill his friends, the peasants, or even Edward or Marian.  He had to escape from within Nottingham castle and also make sure that the others were safe first before he disappeared.

“Each one of the guards has been told that if they let you escape or if they let any of your little friends escape, the punishment would be severe,” James smiled, “and of course, they’ve sworn loyalty to me, so it was easy to persuade them.”

“I’m sure,” Robin replied shortly, a frown on his face.

“I’m only doing this on orders, Locksley,” James noticed the frown on his face; “I really have changed from my times in the Holy Lands.  It’s only because word of your exploits and defiance of Sheriff Vaysey has spread so much throughout the country that Prince John’s worried about the populace emulating you.”

“Nice to know I’m famous,” Robin smiled crookedly, glad that his actions were making a difference.

“More like infamous,” James shook his head, “Prince John is worried so when I returned here, he tasked me to set this all up.”

“Clever,” Robin saw that the walls of Nottingham town were closer now, “I had a feeling something was wrong the first time I saw you in my little trap.”

“Am I that bad, Locksley?” James gave him a sardonic smile.

“Quite,” Robin shot back, “I can still smell the blood on you; the smell of a bloodthirsty murderer.”

The back-handed slap to his face stung, but Robin took it in silence and instead gave a pointed look at the Crusader who was readjusting his gloves.  “Your debacle with the Sheriff a couple of weeks ago really made the Prince furious.  He is expecting results and I expect to deliver on them.”

Robin didn’t say anything, sensing that the conversation was over and instead stared out into the distance, the town’s walls inching ever closer.  He had to admit, this was a very clever plan.

                                    *                      *                      *

**NOTTINGHAM** **CASTLE**

 

They brought Allan in, one side of his face an ugly purple color, his cheek completely bruised.  That same purple color traveled down his neck and past the folds of his clothes, Will noticed before the guards dumped his unconscious body into the same cell that he was in along with Djaq and Much, the latter of the two looking worst for wear, but otherwise awake.

Will was still in too much pain from his own torture session a few hours ago to help Djaq and Much drag Allan’s body over for their resident physician to look and instead gave a small nod of acknowledgment as Allan blearily opened his eyes and stared at him before Djaq snapped her fingers in front of his face to make him look at her.

“Who’s next?” one of the guards asked the jail keeper before glancing at Little John who was the only one left who sat his own cell.  “Him?”

“Nah…too brutish.  The Sheriff has something special planned for him,” the jail keeper shook his head.

“The boy then?” the guard jerked his head at Djaq who looked up from her ministrations to Allan, her eyes narrowed.

“She’s a girl, ya know?” the jail keeper leered and Will immediately felt anger fill him.  Pain be damned, no one was going to touch Djaq, least of all the jail keeper and his horrid torture machines.

“Stay away from her,” he growled as he forced his aching and protesting body to move to cover Djaq just as Much also half-stepped in front of her at the same time.

“Ah…protective aren’t we?  Now we know why you lot keep a girl like her around, eh?” the jail keeper waggled his eyebrows suggestively as a sick feeling pushed some of the anger away from Will.  “Whaddaya lot gonna do?  Bleed on me?”

The guards made a move to drag Djaq out before another one burst into the dungeons and ran up towards them.

“We’ve been summoned,” the new guard said hastily before an unseen signal went around the two guards and jail keeper before they shut the cell and locked it.

“You’re lucky little girl,” the jail keeper muttered before slinking after the guards, leaving them alone.

Will let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding before sliding painfully back to the cell floor, letting himself rest against the rocky wall.  Much also sat down and put his head in his hands before staring at Djaq who resumed her examination of Allan.

“How is he?” Much asked quietly.

“Bruises…that is all,” she replied before patting Allan gently on the head, “get some rest Allan.  It looks like they’ve only pulled a few of your muscles and gave you bruises.”

Allan nodded wearily before turning his head to the side as he fell unconscious again.

“Are you okay?” Will asked, staring at Djaq who leaned against the wall, her face covered in sweat.

“Yes,” she glanced at him and nodded, “thank you…both of you.”

He wanted to say more, but it was more for a private time and instead settled for nodding before reaching into his boot and pulling out the small torture tool he had hidden in there before he himself was tortured.  “John?  Do you have the piece of wood?” he glanced over to the big man who nodded and pulled out a rectangular piece of wood that had a weird form that looked somewhat like a key and tossed it across the bars at Much who caught it and handed it to him.

As soon as he had been roused to consciousness a couple of hours ago he told Little John to break the stool in the corner of his cell and hand him a few of the wooden pieces so he could chip away at them and make a makeshift key of sorts, just like how they had escaped from the castle’s vault a month and half ago.

If there was one thing he could count on was that the locksmith who created the locks for the boxes he, his father, and brother made during tax collection were made by the same locksmith who created the cell door locks, and probably just about every lock within the castle.

Last time he was able to create the key in a few minutes, but then again he had all of his tools and weapons on him, this time, he only had the single tool he stole from the torture chamber.  It was going to be a while before they went anywhere…

Ignoring his protesting body he hunched over the piece of wood and continued to work on his key, hoping that by distracting himself with making their means to escape, he wouldn’t have to focus on the pain throughout his body and the sympathy pain from his friends.

“After we get out of here,” Much suddenly said out of the blue, nearly startling Will, “we have to go to London to warn Robin…”

“I don’t mean to be funny,” Allan croaked from his place on the ground, “but…what about Lady Marian and her father?  Robin’s not going to be happy if we don’t spring her from this place.”

“I’m sure they won’t harm her-“

“She’s too valuable, so is her father,” Djaq interrupted Much who numbly nodded.  “They won’t execute her until they’re sure Robin gets back to save her.”

“Robin is our priority,” Little John said gruffly from his cell.

Silence lapsed in the dungeons a few seconds later, only punctuated by small groans of pain from Allan as Djaq continued her examination to make sure he was all right and by the tapping sounds Will made in his corner.  But everyone knew that time was of the essence…something big was going to happen, and soon.

                                    *                      *                      *

When they threw him into a small, but sparsely furnished room in the castle instead of the dungeons, it had caught Robin by surprise.  Before the door closed, he saw that they had posted at least a guard outside to prevent anyone from rescuing him or from him to escape.  The window in the room was just a few narrow slits in the stone walls and his sleeping pallet was a wooden plank filled with hay.  A single torch dimly lit the room, and even the torch was placed high enough that even if he jumped, his fingers barely brushed the edges of the torch holder.

Overall, a very secure room that they placed him in, much cleverer than placing him in the dungeons where he could have shouted insults at the guards and then stole their keys as they approached him.

Glancing around, his first thought was figuring out if anything in the room was usable for an escape.  Setting fire to the hay bed was not an option unless he wanted to choke to death from the smoke.  Plus that would give James and the Sheriff too much of a satisfaction to see him die from his own ineptitude.  He knew that by now, his men were probably either caught or were being hunted down if they escaped.  He had held out some hope of maybe one of them escaping, but that hope was fading fast, especially since he had seen a lot of peasants sitting in chains as he was paraded into the castle.

James had made it a grand show of leading him around in chains before proceeding to let the guards shove him and poke him with their weapons to his room.  He still bore a number of shallow cuts and scratches from the ordeal, and his ratted clothes attested to that, but Robin ignored his small wounds.  They would heal in a day or two…but the look of defeat many of the peasants wore when they saw him being paraded around was enough to set a very deep seeded anger in the core of his being.

He would get his revenge against James for doing this to him, to his men, to Marian and Edward, and to the people of Nottinghamshire.  As clever of a trick this was, to punish the peasantry and nobles who were only following orders, even if they were illegal, it just wasn’t right.  No one should be punished just because they supported the other faction.

Suddenly his roaming eyes caught on the door on the opposite side of the room, near the windows and walked over to the door.  Twisting the handle, he pushed against the door, but it wouldn’t budge.  He tried pulling on it, but it still wouldn’t budge.  However, he did notice that keyhole was near the handle and peered through it.  The door lead to another room and his eyes caught a brief flash of color before he heard the other room’s door open and the next sound floored him completely.

“What can I do for you Sir Guy?” Marian’s voice filtered through the keyhole.

                                    *                      *                      *

Marian kept her voice neutral and polite even though seeing the dark-haired man again made her heart cry out in anguish.  She dared not look through the keyhole of the door connecting her room to the next one over since Guy had told her that he had orders to execute her father.  She didn’t want to see the room next to hers as that was where her father had been in during his last moments.

She knew that they had taken her father out of his room during the middle of the night and he was probably lying somewhere, dead.

“May I come in?” he asked stiffly.

“Seeing that you are holding me prisoner here, I don’t see why you should ask,” she replied shortly and sarcastically.

“Marian, I…”

“What?” she narrowed her eyes, “you want to apologize to me?  For what?  For killing my father?  For confirming what I dreaded for so long?  That you are just a common executioner?  An assassin?”

“That’s a low blow,” he replied, unable to keep the hurt out of his eyes, but Marian ignored it.

Instead, she turned and walked back into the room, her arms crossed over her chest, unable to keep the tears out of her eyes this time.  The silence between them lasted a while but she could feel Guy’s eyes on her the whole time.

“I…have a horse for you,” he said quietly, almost apologetically.

She turned around and faced him unable to keep the contempt out of her eyes and face as she saw him holding a bundle of dark clothing tied with a piece of string out towards her.  “You’re offering me a way to escape?”

“I’m…sorry,” he looked away, “I know you may hate me for my actions, but I still truly believe that you would be able to redeem me and heal my soul for all of the transgressions I have done in my life.”  He tossed the bundle to her and she caught it, staring at the bundle.  In ways, the outfit he had prepared for her looked reminiscent of her Nightwatchman clothes she had burned a couple of weeks ago.

Her hands curled against it in anger and she walked over to him before shoving the clothes back into his chest.  “Keep it,” she said curtly, “I don’t need your gifts or show of wealth anymore.  You have your lands for that.  You murdered my father.  Do not think lightly of asking for my forgiveness.”

He stared at her with unscrutinable eyes for a few seconds before he turned and walked out.  “Keep her door locked at all times,” he ordered the guard who closed the door behind him, leaving Marian alone once more.

                                    *                      *                      *

Robin counted slowly to thirty after Gisborne had left to make sure that he wasn’t listening in before knocking gently on the door separating his room and Marian’s room.  When she didn’t to answer, he knocked again.  “Marian,” he whispered, hoping she heard him.

“Robin?!” her surprised, but hushed voice came back and he saw her kneel beside the keyhole, before part of her face and her sharp blue eyes met his and he smiled.  “Robin, it is you!  What are you…no…”

“I have a plan,” he reassured her and noticed that her face quirked up into a skeptical look.  “All right,” he admitted, “half a plan.”

“Find a way to get out of here.  They will kill you-“

“I’m not going anywhere without you or my men-“

“They will kill you!  The Sheriff has already planned it!  Where’s Sir James?”

“Planning with the Sheriff,” he replied before a knowing look passed over her face.

“Then it was all concocted by the Sheriff…like what he did with the fake King Richard.”

“Not quite,” Robin shook his head, “I think James is the main instigator in all of this…on Prince John’s orders.”

“The Prince?!”

He nodded before looking down then back up at her, wishing he could see her whole face instead of just a sliver of it.  “Is it true?  Your father…?”

“I…don’t know,” the sadness returned to her eyes and his heart went out to her.  He wanted so badly to hold her and comfort her for her loss…  “I don’t want to believe it…but…”

“Marian,” he tried to comfort her with his voice, “cry if you have to.  I will be here.”

She smiled sadly at him before shaking her head, “You’re always trying to be the noble one, aren’t you?  Always trying to put up a brave front; this is all a game to you.”

“Marian-“

“I am not some tiny teacup that can be broken,” she continued, angry, “don’t think about coddling me like some child.”

Robin nearly banged his head against the door in frustration and instead, settled for thumping his hand against the stone wall.  Did she have to turn every single conversation they had into a fight?!  He knew that she was hurting very much in her own heart from her loss, so why couldn’t she be open with him?  He was only trying to provide her with some measure of comfort and she was throwing it back into his face.

“I don’t know why people think that I should be someone to dote upon.  I am just Marian, a simple girl who wants to do things on her own.  I want to take care of my father, and make sure those that are unfortunate receive help-“

Robin realized that she was still murmuring to herself and he strained to look beyond the keyhole and saw her slide down to the wall next to her door, tears falling openly from her face and realized that she wasn’t taking her anger out at him…

“It’s okay Marian…just…cry,” he said quietly.

He settled himself by the door, leaning against the frame so that his had a partial view of her face.  She was such a strong woman and to see her like this almost broke her heart.  It also made him realize that he had said hurtful things to her, especially about her father.  She loved her father terribly and he knew that he had only said those things because he had no parents, not ever since he was a young boy…

“I’ll be here,” he said softly.

                                    *                      *                      *

Sunlight filtered through the narrow windows of Marian’s room and she awoke with a particular beam of sunlight that had been slowly inching its way over with the passage of time finally hit her square in her left eye.  She stretched and worked out a painful crick in her neck that had occurred from her sleeping against the wall next to the door connecting her room with Robin’s.

She had been so surprised to hear and see him there…she would have thought that by now, he would have been imprisoned in London or worst, sent back to the Holy Lands.  By having him here, she felt her spirits rise, though she would never admit it to him.  He gave her hope, even though he didn’t really have a plan to escape, but she knew that his clever mind would come up with something as daring as escaping from Nottingham castle – he always did.

There was a faint skittering sound across the stone floor and she turned towards the source of the sound to see a folded piece of paper with a red seal on it skid to a halt in the middle of her room, having been slipped under her door only moments before.

She got up and picked up the paper before unsealing the flimsy sheet, noting that the seal belonged to Sir Guy.

 

_Dear Marian,_

_Your father is still alive, currently held within Locksley Manor for his own protection until I can secure your release.  I have arraigned a transport for the two of you to go to_ _Birmingham_ _where you will be under the protection of the family of Tobias of Lachlann.  I could not tell you before because James has spies everywhere.  My order to kill your father comes directly from Prince John, but he will not know of this matter; I will see to it._

_I hope you will forgive me for the deception and perhaps in the future, come to love me as I love you._

_Sincerely,_

_Guy_

 

Marian re-read the letter twice before folding it back up and placing it within the folds of her clothing.  Her initial assumptions about Guy were wrong it seemed…and her own feelings for him had been thrown into chaos again.  She knew that Robin was right and perhaps jealous of her relationship with Guy, her friendly attitude towards him and for her to overlook the worse aspects of his personality, but she knew that Guy had a hidden heart, one that was willing to give her anything to make her happy.

The fact that he had spared her father showed that he cared lot about her and she knew that she had to apologize.  She was afraid of him, yet felt attracted towards him.

The unlocking of her door drew her out of her thoughts and she unconsciously smoothed the wrinkles out of her clothes as the door opened to admit James of Atherstone, the last man she wanted to see.  Behind her was Sheriff Vaysey, a beaming smile on his face as he practically danced into her room.

“Ah, Lady Marian,” he greeted politely, “my condolences on the death of your father.”

“No doubt under the Prince’s orders,” she replied.

“Well, we had sufficient evidence that he was the instigator of a potential rebellion and the Sheriff here provided it,” James nodded in acquiesce of the Sheriff who just clasped his hands together before walking towards the other door in her room, the one connecting her room with Robin’s and examined it, knocking on parts of it.

“This connects to the room next to yours doesn’t it?” the Sheriff asked and she glanced quickly at the door before back at James, not knowing what to say.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Vaysey gave her a brief smile before turning back to the door and suddenly pounded on it hard, rattling it.  “Can you hear me Hood?!  I know you’re in there!”

Marian stared at James who shook his head and looked at her, “I’ve also heard rumors from the Sheriff that you have been consorting with Locksley and while I place little to no stake in rumors, they are whispered so loudly that I can’t simply ignore them.

“However I can say that I can overlook those rumors if you are willing to travel to London where you will be protected by the Prince’s good graces,” James continued.

“Where I will become his whore,” Marian shot off and received an astonished look from the Crusader.

“I told you she speaks her mind,” the Sheriff stopped his pounding and walked back over to them.

“The only offer I will take is the freedom of the peasants and all those deceived by the Prince’s trick,” she knew that both the Sheriff and James were trying to have her admit her association with Robin.

James stared at her for a few seconds in silence before shrugging, “Then this is unfortunate, milady.  I would hate to see such a beautiful face like yours be stained with tears and anguish tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Why tomorrow is the execution of Robin Hood and his men!  Goodie,” the Sheriff said sarcastically.

“You will watch along with his men and the populace of the shire as we hang Locksley,” James said almost congenially, “it will be the observance of justice to show that anyone who defies the Crown will be punished and executed, swiftly.”

“And what happens afterwards?”

“Well, my dear, you will get your trial, after all, you aren’t an outlaw.  If you are found guilty, well…you know what comes next,” the Sheriff said, smiling nastily before walking out of the door, waving a jaunty goodbye.

“Good day, milady,” James gave her a short bow before following her out, closing the door behind him, leaving her alone once more.

                                    *                      *                      *

**Author’s Notes:**

            Okay, who thought I was actually going to send Robin back to Jerusalem?  Hah…I’d rather have him here in Nottingham where I can have sooooo much fun with him.  I’ve finished part 3 already, but that’s being tweaked/beta-ed on, so happy reading folks!


	3. Part 3: Rescue

Robin Hood: Well Met Steel

By: Shadow Chaser

Started: 8/8/07.  Finished: 8/25/07.

 

**Author’s Notes/Disclaimer:**

_Robin Hood_ and its characters do not belong to me.  I am not making a profit from this fic, this is just for amusement, especially that of my muses.  I graduated college with a minor in History, which included a lot of English and European history along with Eastern and Asiatic history so my knowledge of the Crusades is pretty thorough.

 

**Story:**

_Part 3 – Rescue_

 

**June 18, 1192**

 

Will blew the fine chips of wood off his newly finished key and scooted over to the door of the cell.  The pain that had been lingering on him had faded a while ago and instead a new pain was forming on his lower back from the strain of him being hunched over for so long, but that pain was like a refreshing beacon to him.

He made sure that none of the guards were nearby before inserting the wooden key into the back of the lock and slowly moving it upwards.  There was a soft click and a smile spread across his face.  Glancing back at Djaq, Much, and Allan whose bruises had turned into an ugly yellowish color on his face, he nodded his success to them.

“Yes!” Djaq hissed happily before helping Allan up, Much supporting his other side.

Will slowly pushed the cell door open, knowing that its hinges were squeaky from the years of rust and crept out, holding the door open for the other three to slip through, Allan biting part of his lip from making any noises as he jarred a particularly nasty bruise he had on his left foot.

As soon as they were clear of the door, he let it close quietly before going over to Little John’s cell and handed him the makeshift key.  “You have to insert it this way,” he pointed to the end, “and don’t force it.”

Little John nodded before taking the key and mimicking what he had done with the cell door.  A soft click later and he opened the door and stepped out.  “Let’s go.”

They hurried down the steps, Allan still a bit unbalanced, but able to move on his own and it wasn’t too soon before they came upon the first guard.  Little John immediately smashed him in the face, and the clattering of the guard falling down upon the ground elicited shouts from the other guards who came pouring in, weapons drawn.

Will ducked under the swipe of a broadsword and grabbed a guard’s flailing hand before jabbing his hand into his mid-section.  The guard doubled over and he quickly relieved him of his sword before flipping the handle to his right hand and finished the guard off.  He could hear the others battling behind him as he moved forward to take down more guards that were pouring in.

Part of him wished he had his axes back in his hands as he knew their weight and feel, but right now he would do his best with the broadsword in his hands.  He spun awkwardly injuring one of the guards in the arm, before thrusting his sword towards another who ducked and met his blade with his own, sparks flying at the metal contact.

Will pushed against the blade and broke the initial contact.  Pulling his sword back for an overhand swipe, he underestimated the force and weight of the sword and stumbled.

The guard picked up on his hesitation and advanced forward, a cruel smile on his face beneath his helmet.  He was about to run him through with his sword when another poked out of his back and the guard stared at the mortal wound he received before the sword retracted.

“You okay?” Allan looked a bit worst for wear and was obviously favoring his right foot, but the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes that he always wore whenever they fought.

“Yeah…thanks,” he nodded before turning to the guard that was fighting Much and helped take him down.

“Surrender your weapons!” one of the guards yelled as Will looked up to see at least four more coming towards them.

“Go!  Go!” Little John suddenly stepped in front of all of them, the broken spear in his hands raised as he faced the fresh batch of guards while the ones that hadn’t been killed yet were groggily getting up.  “Go!” he shouted at them and Will backed away slowly, his thoughts conflicted.  He knew that Little John was providing them the means to escape, but they he didn’t want to leave the big man to be re-captured again.

“Come on!” Djaq yanked at his sleeve and he turned and followed her as they ran from the dank dungeons, up the stone steps and towards the main corridors.

“Split up!  Draw them apart!  We’ll meet at the North gate!” Much called out before he and Djaq went one way down the hall.

“Can you make it?” Will asked as he and Allan headed down the opposite end of the hall, occasionally glancing back as the sounds of the guards from the dungeons came closer and closer.

He was glad that it was night outside, and the dimly lit torches that shined along the castle’s many corridors made for poor vision among the guards, but Will and Allan were used to running at night and so their night vision was especially sharp.  Plus having broken in and escape from the castle so many times before, the corridors they were running around in were second-nature.

“Don’t worry about me mate,” Allan kept up with him, even though he was starting to limp badly, sweat starting to pour down his face even in the dim light.  He was beginning to think that the innocent bruise on Allan’s left foot was probably not what it seemed and more like a twisted ankle or broken foot.

Will nodded before slowing down as they came to a corner.  He slid up against the wall and peered out quickly, seeing at least two guards, both facing away from him, chatting.  Beyond them, the corridor looked empty.

He turned back to Allan and held up two fingers and he nodded before hefting a short sword he had acquired from one of the guards earlier.  Will wanted a short sword since its balance was similar to his axes, but he knew that if he gave Allan his broadsword in a trade, his best friend would have added weight to his leg that he didn’t need.

Counting silently to three, he suddenly leapt out towards the guards along with Allan and clobbered the two on the head, knocking them out cold.  Will immediately dropped the broadsword he was holding and picked up one of the guards’ short sword, feeling much better.

“That probably woke the other patrols up,” Allan commented before they headed down the corridor.

They passed by rows of doors and Will realized that these were the guest quarters area of the castle.  He was so engrossed in making sure that they didn’t encounter any guards that he barely missed a loud pounding sound followed by muffled shouts from one of the doors until Allan stopped and stared at one of the doors.

“What?” he glanced at him who had a peculiar look on his face.

“Do you reckon that sounds like Robin?” Allan was staring at the door.

Will looked at him, puzzled before moving towards the door, his ears alert.

“Hey!  Hey!” he heard the muffle shouts followed by the door rattling on his hinges.

“That _is_ him,” Will agreed before looking back towards the two guards they had knocked down, wondering if one of them had the key.  He was about to head towards the two fallen bodies when the sounds of pursuit alerted him that the other patrols had seen the bodies and were running towards them.  Cursing silently, he pounded on the door twice hoping Robin would be able to understand that he was going to come back later before he and Allan took off once more.

In ways, Will knew that it was good that Robin was here…the only bad part was that James of Atherstone was probably here…and he did not want to tangle with the Crusader.

                                    *                      *                      *

Robin stepped back from the door as soon as he heard the double knock of what was probably one of his men replying back to his shouts.  He heard the distant yells of the guards coming down the hall in front of his room and knew that they were being pursued, but the double knock indicated that they would return soon.  It was a system they had set up as soon as they had formed, a way to communicate without words.  Two knocks meant that they were going to return, one knock usually meant that they were either being pursued or couldn’t return.

A few seconds later silence reigned in the halls and Robin knew that all the excitement had gone elsewhere and instead walked back to his pallet and sat down on the hard straw, trying to plan his next move.  If there was one thing he could count on, it was the fact that he and his men were very good at escaping and springing people out of the castle – not to mention that Vaysey’s guards were practically inept and stupid.  However, with James’ guards and those from Prince John, there would be an added security factor that they didn’t know how to approach.

He could guarantee that the Prince’s guards and even James’ own men were probably smarter that the ones Vaysey picked from out of the shire.  He would have to warn his men, whichever one of them escaped, to tread very carefully.

By his reckoning at least a half-an-hour had passed before the door to his room opened and he looked up to see James stepping in along with a lone guard, both of them unarmed.  A second guard stood by the door, holding a spear

“Close the door behind us,” James said to the guard by the door who nodded and shut the door after he stepped out, the lock clicking in place.

Robin stared at James warily, a thrill of dread forming in the pit of his stomach, and stood up slowly.  He had a bad feeling about all of this…especially since it was late at night and the dim lighting did not help the malicious look James was wearing, a ruthless smile on his face.

“One of my guards told me you were pounding on the door earlier…calling out to your escaping men,” James picked at his gloves.

“No harm in trying to find a way out of here,” Robin replied neutrally, almost jauntily.

“I guess you should know…we’ve recaptured all of them,” James shucked his gloves off and slapped them against his thigh as he walked around the small room, the flickering torch light making his shadow jump everywhere.

Robin was silent, waiting for the inevitable move that James was probably going to make against him.  He also kept an eye on the lone guard that the Crusader had brought in with him.

“So, I guess there should be some punishment for you for trying to escape out of here,” James continued, staring at the walls, his left hand trailing some of the stones.

“Punishment?  Me?” Robin gave him a false smile, “I thought you would have me hang whole instead of battered around.”

“You will hang whole,” James turned and stared at him, “but why not have a little… _fun_!”  With his last word, the Crusader suddenly threw a wild punch at him that Robin ducked easily before cocking his fist and back tried to throw one of his own.

But his fist was caught in an iron grip and Robin looked back to see the guard holding his left hand, surprised that the guard had moved so quickly to intercept him.  That was when James’ second punch caught him straight into the stomach and he doubled over in pain.  He gave a yelp of pain as his left arm was twisted back before the clattering of something metallic touched his wrist and he looked up to see his left wrist encased in a shackle, the other end closing around the lone torch holder in the room.

Immediately the iron grip released from his wrist and he caught himself before he nearly fell to the floor, his left arm pulling painfully against the single restraint holding him.  He barely had time to pick himself back up, using the stone wall as his support before James’ next punch was aimed at his stomach again.

He managed a kick towards the Crusader that sent him and his punch spiraling away before the meaty hand of the guard shoved him against the stone wall with such force that he felt waves of pain shooting from his lower back all the way up towards his head.  He shook his head, trying to clear away the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him and pulled against his restraint.

“Not so tough now are we Locksley?” James sneered, coming close towards him before backing away a bit, “not like how you were back in Arsuf!”

Robin could feel a cut somewhere near his right temple that was dripping blood down the side of his cheek and his breath came in gasps, each one of them hurting painfully.  There had to be at least some bruising of his ribs, he figured.

“You think you’re tougher than I am?” he shot back, anger filling him, overpowering the dread that had once been in his stomach, “you have to chain me up and beat me just because you know I can defeat you in a fair fight!”

He knew that he was asking for it, knew that what he had just said were the wrong words to say to a man who had you chained up and beating you, but Robin didn’t really care at the moment.  The inevitable blow came when Robin felt his other arm yanked behind him painfully before more blows rained down on his stomach, chest, even towards his already pulled back arms.

He fought the urge to cry out, but even as the blows continued, he couldn’t help but groan as a few hit sore spots.  Finally, his arm was released and the beating stopped again, leaving him sagging almost to the floor, his left arm the only thing preventing him from completely collapsing onto the floor.

Robin winced as he could feel his left arm strain against his own body’s weight, the shackles holding him tight.  The pounding of his own heart drowned out any sounds that he heard, but he vaguely made out a rattling sound that was semi-consistent and blearily opened his eyes, James’ dark form wavering from two of him to one of him.  He knew that they hadn’t hit his face at all, but the beating his body received still made it painful for him to keep his eyes open.

“Ah…is that Marian I hear from the door?” James said in an unpleasant voice before glancing at the other door that connected their rooms together.  Robin could clearly see it shake against its hinges, the muffled voice of Marian telling them to stop.

He realized that Marian could hear and see what had been happening and despair filled him.  This was not something he wanted her to hear or even see however much of it she could glean from the keyhole.  This was something that was too vicious for her pure heart…

“Marian!” he shouted, “close your eyes-“

Robin bit his lip, grunting in pain as the guard viciously backhanded him across the face.

“-close your ears!”

“Aww,” James suddenly grabbed his jaw, pulling him upright and painfully shoved him against the stone wall, “trying to save our little lovebird, aren’t we?”

“You are a sick man, Atherstone,” Robin bit out through the grip the Crusader had on his mouth.

“No, Locksley,” James shook his head, “I am a forgiving man.  I only wished you died from your leg wound back then.  Then again, I praise the Saracen that managed to give you your near fatal wound; though I wish he could have killed you.”

“Go to hell,” Robin spat, his words partially still muffled by the grip James had on his mouth.

“You first,” the Crusader whispered before slamming his head against the stone walls, sending a wave of dizziness and stars across his vision.  He sagged once more against the lone restraint as his vision got blurry, but tried to will himself not to fall unconscious.

“Release him,” he stared at James’ booted feet as the man walked away from him, unable to move, only able to keep himself breathing as his vision faded in and out.  There was a loud clicking sound before he felt his left wrist being released and he crumpled to the ground, every fiber of his being crying out in pain.

He barely heard James and the other guard open the door to his room and leave, the door slamming close behind them.  He just closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing.

“Robin…Robin…” he opened his eyes after a few minutes, hearing Marian’s broken voice.  “Robin…please…answer me.  Please…”

Pushing himself up on his right arm, he slowly slid towards the door and leaned heavily against it, letting himself rest.  He flexed his left arm, clenching and releasing his fist.  There definitely were a few pulled muscles, but hopefully they would heal somewhat by morning.  He had a feeling that his date with the hangman was approaching soon, probably in the morning…if so, he wanted his arms to be in somewhat of a working order if he was going to steal a bow and a few arrows.  They didn’t need to be completely healed, as he could still shoot and hit his marks with near-perfect accuracy when his arms were partially disabled.

“I’m here,” he whispered towards the keyhole, closing his eyes as he rested his head against the stone frame of the door.

“Robin, what-“

“Don’t cry Marian…I’m fine,” he reassured her, keeping his eyes closed.

“No you’re not!” she hissed back and Robin smiled, glad to hear the venom back in her voice, instead of the despair that nearly broke his heart.

“It’s all right,” he opened his eyes again and looked at her single blue one that peered from the keyhole, “James is too clever to hurt me too badly before my hanging.  He wants me to be as whole as possible, so that the people can see that his rule is absolute.”

“Are you that keen on death?!” her lone blue eye was filled with fiery anger.

“No,” he smirked, “and I do believe a rescue is coming soon.”

“But he said your men-“

“He’s lying,” he tilted his head, “I know my men better than he does.  One of them knocked twice on my door before he fled.  Pursuit is light for that man…we’ll get out of this.”

“For everyone’s sake, I hope you’re right,” she replied.

                                    *                      *                      *

Will and Allan peered around the corner of an abandoned fruit stand, looking at the North gate where they were supposed to meet Djaq and Much.  No one except the two guards guarding the gate was there and Will had a bad feeling that Djaq and Much had been re-captured.  They had been waiting in their particular spot for the past hour and half with no sign of the other two.

“Let’s get back in,” Allan tapped him on the shoulder, having sat down to ease the pain on his left leg; “I don’t think they’re coming.”

Will didn’t say anything but nodded and resigned himself to the fact that Much and Djaq had been re-captured.  He turned and helped Allan up to his feet before they headed back into the castle to ambush a couple of hapless guards and steal their armor.  Will knew that Robin was expecting them and planned not to disappoint their leader.

They managed to find a couple of the guards trying to steal late night snacks from the kitchens and whacked the two over the head with various pots and pans they found, making sure to catch each man before they fell to the ground as not to wake the kitchen staff up.

Tying both men up after stripping them of their armor, Allan placed gags in each of their mouths before Will dragged their unconscious bodies into the far corner of the meat storage room, wrinkling his nose the whole time at the smell of half-rotted meat that wafted from the storeroom.  Behind him, Allan dragged a couple of sacks of potatoes and placed them on top of the bodies, ensuring that if they were found, or if they woke up, they would be unable to escape without causing a lot of trouble.

“It’s feeling better,” Allan caught him staring at his left leg as he knelt down and tied a long strip of cloth around his ankle and foot, bracing it as best as possible.

After Allan was done, they started to put on the armor, all the while looking out for any other guards that were planning to raid the kitchens for late night snacks.  After a few minutes, Will donned the helmet and glanced at Allan, a smile quirking up on his face.

“Too bad you’re not the prisoner this time,” he quipped, making his best friend shake his head and smile as he also put on his helmet.

“What, so you can whip me?”

“That did hurt, you know,” he pointed out.

“Whatever,” Allan replied before clapping him on the shoulder, “lets go rescue our fearless leader, shall we?”

Will just smiled and hefted the spear, planning to dump it somewhere later, in his hand before walking out of the kitchens, Allan following right behind him.

                                    *                      *                      *

Robin didn’t realize he had dozed off until a gentle double knock to his door startled him awake and he blinked open his eyes before getting up, wincing at how stiff his muscles had already become in light of the recent beating he got from James.

“Robin…it’s me, Will,” he heard the muffled voice of the young man say through the door.

“I knew it,” he replied quietly, “who else is with you?”

“Just Allan…he’s watching the halls, making sure no one comes near here, at least not for now,” Will replied.

“Much and the others?”

“We think they’ve been re-captured by the Sheriff and his men.”

Robin heard the jingle of what sounded like keys and quickly spoke up, “Don’t free me just yet Will.”

“What?”

“I need to prove James wrong in front of everyone, including the Sheriff,” he quickly explained, “I think all of the letters James gave out, including those to the Sheriff are forged letters.  They’ve been inscribed with the fake seal of King Richard.”

“But what does that have to do with proving James wrong?  Oh…”

Robin nodded, knowing that Will could not see him, but did so anyways, “A peasant revolt could work to our advantage.”

“Allan and I will find our weapons and hide them near the hanging block,” Will replied.

“If things do go wrong,” Robin said in a serious tone, “get Marian out first.”

“But Robin-“

“No buts Will,” he cut the youngest member of the gang off, “Marian is in great danger, more so than me.  James will want to make sure that when I am executed, it will be to everyone’s eyes, including Marian’s.  Spirit her away and he will have to spend time finding her.”

“Then we’ll have time to rescue you,” Will finished for him, “I don’t like it…”

“I’m not asking you to like it-“

“The guard is coming back,” Will suddenly interrupted him, “I told him I give him a quick break.”

“I’ll see you later then,” Robin replied before he heard Will step away from the door and the muffled exchange between him and the guard before the sound of metallic booted feet stomped away.

Robin moved from the door to the other side of the room and sat down next to the door, leaning against the frame once more.  He knocked gently on the wooden door.  “Marian…”

“Hmmm?” she replied sleepily, having fallen asleep next to the door too.

“I have a plan,” he said.

“It better not be half of one,” she murmured, sleep still evident in her voice, but it brought a smile to Robin’s face.

“Will and Allan have escaped and are posing as guards for the moment,” he explained to her, “tomorrow they will free the others and us too.  If things go wrong, they will spirit you away first.”

“I will not leave you to the hangman’s noose,” Marian was definitely awake, annoyance in her voice.

“Your life is in far more danger now that…” he couldn’t finish the sentence, the death of Sir Edward still too fresh in his mind and heart, “I know how James operates.  He is cruel, sadistic, and enjoys the pain he puts on others.  He won’t kill me if he can’t find you.  He will want to wait until you are captured because he wants to have you watch me die.”

“But he will torture you!”

“Nothing I haven’t handled before,” he replied before he realized he had disclosed more than he should have to his love.  He didn’t want her finding it out like this…

“It happened in the Holy Lands…didn’t it?” she asked, her voice quiet.

“It is a tale for another time and place,” Robin said roughly, hoping that she would leave it at that.

Silence answered him for a few minutes before she spoke up once more.

“Let us hope that in a few hours, all of this will be behind us,” she said in a subdued tone.  Robin whole-heartedly agreed with her…

                                    *                      *                      *

**June 19, 1192**

 

Whatever light poured into the room that Robin had been confined to ever since he arrived back in Nottingham beat their morning rays upon his sleeping form before one particular beam caught him square across his eyes, making him squint as he woke up.  The distinct sound of his door unlocking once more, brought him fully awake and he quickly peered through the keyhole to Marian’s room, but it looked like she had been taken away long before he had woken up.

He pushed himself up onto his feet, quickly working a couple of muscles in his to relieve the cramping they received during the night away as he saw James and two other guards walk in, a third guard holding the door open.

On closer inspection of one of the guards, he was mildly surprised to see that it was Will who gave him a slightly measured and surprised look before standing behind James.  Robin realized that Will was probably staring at the dried blood that had dripped down the side of his face and probably from his slightly blood-matted hair during the couple of times his head was slammed against the stone walls.

He gave Will a covert wink and the barest shake of his head, hoping to reassure him before facing James, a crooked smile on his face.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?” he raised his eyebrows, projecting confidence in his voice.

“Tie him,” James just gave him a half-smile in return before gesturing for Will to approach him with ropes.

“No chains?” Robin asked, secretly pleased.  This would make his escape all the easier, especially since he knew Will would tie his ropes loosely.

“We only save those for the ones who truly deserve it, and for torture,” the Crusader replied as he held out his hands for Will to tie up.

Robin made sure not to catch Will’s eyes just in case James was looking, but he did notice that he made his bonds look tight while he could easily flex his hands and wrists within them, enabling him to slip out of them with little to no trouble at all.  As soon as Will was done and stepped back, Robin slowly lowered his hands, letting them rest against his stomach, giving the illusion that they were tied very tightly.

“Good, good,” James stepped forward and examined him from head to toe, before reaching behind him and shoving him forward, making him stumble a bit on the uneven stone floor.  “Let’s go meet your maker, Locksley.”

As soon as Robin stepped from his room, he was surrounded by a contingent of guards, all whom stayed at least a pace away from him in a circle of sorts so that if he were to make a grab for one of their weapons, he would have to reach for it instead of instantaneously acquiring one.

They walked into the front entrance of the castle, where the bright sunlight hit Robin’s face full force to the point where he had to squint for a few seconds to let his eyes adjust to the glare before he looked out at the massive crowd that had gathered around the hangman’s platform.

“Good crowd, Atherstone…did you cajole half of Nottingham to be here?  Or were they your prisoners already?” he said sarcastically as he was pushed down a few steps.  His eyes scanned the crowd and he spotted the rest of his gang, standing by the hangman’s platform, staring up at him.  He spotted Allan next to Djaq and the barest nod of his head told him that he was ready with their weapons and the others also knew of the basic plan.  He figured Allan probably already either loosened their bonds or even broken them already…  He gave them a small smile, especially to Much who looked positively pale with worry.

“Is it a concern of yours Robin?  Should you even been concerned whether or not I forced this…rabble to be here?  I would think your current thoughts may linger on whether or not I would grant you one last request…” James replied next to him.

“Last time I did that, he incited a rebellion,” Vaysey spoke up a couple of guards away, a congenial smile on his face as he scanned the crowd.  Next to him was Gisborne to whom Robin smirked at, “by the way, Atherstone…why are there two hangman’s noose?  You never did explain it.”

“All will be explained in due time,” James stepped away from them, heading further down the steps, holding his hands up for silence.

Out of the corner of his right eye, Robin saw Will standing one step behind him, the broadsword’s pommel he wore as part of his guard uniform innocently pointed at him for easy access.  In Will’s other hand he was holding a short sword, blade pointed downwards.  Continuing to scan the crowd, he found Marian’s face and worried eyes near Allan and the others, but completely surrounded by Prince John’s guard…

Getting her free was going to be a bit tricky…

“Your attention please,” James spoke loudly, cutting through the murmurs of the crowd as they fell mostly silent, save for the occasional ripple of murmurs.  “As you all have heard, anyone who disobeys the Crown, will be arrested, tried, and executed.  The King has been most displeased by recent events happening in his lands.  He has granted me full authority to investigate this matter, allowing me to return from the Holy Lands to find the true perpetrator of this rebellion.

“And I have found that perpetrator!  You all claim this man, Robin of Locksley,” James pointed at him, “is your savoir?  I would hardly think so!  This man has been robbing the rich and yes, gave all of you trinkets to buy food for your families, for your sons and daughters to survive!  But what has he done with the rest of the money?!  I tell you, he has horded it!

“In a confession to me as I was secretly conducting my investigation, he has told me that he plans to use this money, to overthrow Prince John in London!  To overthrow the autocratic rule of the state!  He plans to rebel against the man he claims to protect with his life as the captain of the King’s Guard, King Richard the Lionhearted himself!”

Robin resisted the urge to whistle at the accusations that James was throwing at him, but he could see that some of the peasants had shocked expressions on their faces while others were starting to nod in agreement with James’ words.  He knew he would have to make his move soon if a peasant revolt could work with him.

“But before we continue with today’s execution, there is one other small business to attend to,” James said, pausing dramatically and Robin caught Allan rolling his eyes in exasperation at the theatrics.  However, the Crusader’s next words shocked even Robin himself.

“Gisborne, please execute Sheriff Vaysey,” James said flatly, turning around and staring at the Sheriff, pure malice in his eyes.

Even the crowd was surprised for all murmurs stopped and dead silence reigned, save for the occasional baying of an animal somewhere in the town broke through the air.  Vaysey himself opened his mouth a couple of times like a fish out of water and even Gisborne had frozen in place, unsure of whether or not he should follow the order given to him.

“What is the meaning of this?!” Vaysey hissed, his words echoing through the silent courtyard.

“You have served your usefulness to Prince John, Vaysey.  Surely you could have seen this coming a mile away?” James said in a simple tone, “by your incompetence, Locksley has been able to get away with the money the Prince has been accumulating for a long time and your inability to deal with him shows that you are not fit to rule.”

“I have done all I can-“

“Save it for God, Vaysey,” James waved him away before giving a pointed look at Gisborne, “well, you have your orders and might I remind you…they come from someone higher than me.”

“If they do,” Robin suddenly interrupted them, a plan forming in his head, “then they are quite illegal in that sense…”

“What is it now Locksley,” James turned on him, annoyed, “do you _want_ to die that quickly?!”

“No,” Robin said calmly, stepping down towards James, sensing that the other guards, including Will were following him, “but you do have to wonder where are all these supposed orders are coming from.”

“Nobles of the land,” he turned to the crowd, specifically looking at the various nobles that had been at the meeting when James was first introduced to them, “do you remember the Sheriff reading the letter from King Richard?”

“What are you getting at-“

“And it was signed with the seal of the King, am I correct?” Robin brushed James aside easily, “but is that seal really the true seal of the King?”

The crowd erupted into hushed whispers as Robin continued, “No one has really seen the seal of the King for a long time, right?  Five years, as I recall…”

“Don’t listen-“

“What?” Robin smirked at James, “suddenly afraid I’ll spill some secret?”  He turned to the crowd again, “There are only four people standing here today that truly know what the King’s seal looks like.  My manservant, Much,” he grinned at Much who hesitantly nodded, “and I have served directly in the King’s Guard, leading him to safety, protecting him from assassins.”  Here, he gave a pointed glare at Gisborne who ignored him before staring back out into the crowd.  “The King, if you didn’t know, broke his signet ring in one of our earlier campaigns.  It was the square one you all recognize.  When he had his second one commissioned, his coat of arms stayed the same, but this one was a circular seal.

He moved his hands up and pulled out the two pieces of parchment he had hidden deep within the folds of his clothes, “As all of you may know and the Sheriff has clearly said long ago, I returned with a commendation from the King himself; with the same circular seal that the King personally wrote for me.  These orders here…the ones purportedly from King Richard, are in fact using the wrong seal…the seal from Prince John.”

He turned and faced James, his eyes stony, “You’ve just killed an innocent man, James of Atherstone.  And I do believe the law of the land states that killing a noble like Lord Fitzwalter is treason.  Using Prince John’s name and faking the King’s seal for your own purpose is also treasonous.  You are the true traitor to the Crown.”

Robin suddenly slipped his hands out of his bonds and grabbed the broadsword hanging from Will’s belt, drawing it in one fluid motion.  He continued the motion by lashing out to the guard closest to him, kicking him in the stomach, sending him toppling towards his comrades, knocking four others down along with James who went toppling down the stairs.

The courtyard erupted into chaos.

Robin wasted no time charging down the steps, avoiding the blades of some of the guards who were running around in confusion, some attacking James’ men and the Prince’s guard, others wondering if they should let the outlaws go.  In the distance, he could see Allan and the others spring into action, grabbing their weapons and taking down the guards surrounding them.

“Arrest them!  Arrest Robin Hood and Atherstone!!  Arrest his men!” Vaysey screamed as he retreated back into the protective walls of the castle, a contingent of guards surrounding him, Gisborne no where to be seen, “I want them arrested!!  I am the Sheriff!”

His eyes searched where Marian should be and saw that the group of the Prince’s guards that had surrounded her were running towards him and Will, but just as suddenly, the Sheriff’s guards intercepted them and swords went flying as the two factions fought it out.

Robin let loose a shout of delight as he couldn’t believe his eyes that his plan worked much better than he anticipated.  Of course, turning on Vaysey when most of the castle guards were in his employ wasn’t usually the wisest thing to do, but Robin was beyond caring at the moment.

“Robin!” Will’s urgent voice made him focus back on getting to Marian and he ducked underneath a couple of fighting guards before raising his sword and attacked the two of the Prince’s guard that were still holding onto her arms.

His attack was met with jarring steel of one of the guards while Will engaged with the other one.  “Run!” he shouted at Marian who nodded and headed towards Allan and the others who were backing up towards the portcullis.

He swung his sword around and met in a parry to the guard’s sword, pushing against him for a few seconds before he suddenly stepped to the side, the guard stumbling forward.  “Will!” he called out to the youngest man who was surprisingly holding his own against the Prince’s guard he was fighting.

Will suddenly broke the stalemate he was in and swiftly kicked the guard in the stomach, making him stagger backwards into a few peasants who pushed and beat him.  Nodding at him, the two of them ran to join the others, pushing their way through the masses who were either running towards the guards, or running away from them, all the while screaming.

“Come on!” Allan had already ditched his guard’s helmet and grabbed Will’s sleeve before the crowd could carry him off while Robin was grabbed by Much and both were pulled to the side.

“That…was brilliant, dangerous, but brilliant,” Much said before they headed towards the stable which were probably lightly guarded, most of the guards still caught up in the quagmire of confusion in the courtyard.

“Robin, my father is still alive,” Marian said as they quickly tacked up the horses, the guards that were guarding the stables knocked unconscious.

“What?!” Robin stared at her.

“He’s being held at Locksley Manor.”

“Who told you this?” he asked, helping Marian up onto her saddle before climbing up on to his, his trusty bow wrapped across his shoulders, his arrows snug behind him.  He had long abandoned the broadsword he took from Will and instead was happier now that his curved Saracen sword was resting by his side.

“Sir Guy,” she replied quietly.

“It could be a trap,” Allan spoke up, now dressed in his regular clothes, the remnants of his guard’s outfit a pile by his horse’s hoofs.

“It is a trap,” Little John said gruffly.

“Trap or not, we still need to find him before James’ men does,” Robin said, silencing whatever argument was going to crop up, “let’s go.”  He nudged his horse out of the stables and into a gallop, headed out of the North gate and towards Sherwood Forest, the others following close behind him.

                                    *                      *                      *

**LOCKSLEY MANOR**

The manor was too quiet for Robin’s liking as they approached it from the back of the town, where they would have a chance of not being seen by the village’s inhabitants.  A lone horse waited outside the main door, and he recognized the horse’s markings and color as Gisborne’s personal favorite.  Oddly, there were no other horses surrounding Gisborne’s which made Robin wonder if the man was setting up an ambush of sorts.

“Wait outside,” he told the others as he got off of his horse, “set up a perimeter…I need to know when James’ will be arriving or if anyone else is coming.”

Marian also got off her horse and followed him.  He opened the door slowly, removing his bow from his shoulder and notching an arrow.  Stepping in, he was alert to any sort of ambush.

“Father!” Marian exclaimed, making Robin look up towards the stairs to see Edward stepping down towards them, a grim look on his face.

It was then that the door closed behind him and Robin spun around, his bow held ready, the arrow pointed straight at Guy of Gisborne’s face as he stepped from the shadows behind them.

“Lower your weapon, Locksley,” Gisborne held up a hand, taking one step forward.

“You first…” he said in a dangerously soft voice.

“I am here alone…and I am unarmed,” Gisborne held up his other hand away from his body to show that he had no weapon in his hands.

Robin didn’t lower his weapon, “Why are you here?”

Gisborne moved his gaze over to Marian who had stepped away from him, “I can save you and your father, right now, if you would let me.”

“How?” she asked, as Gisborne moved closer towards her, Robin keeping a sharp eye on him, lowering his bow slightly.

“My orders weren’t from King Richard,” Gisborne gave him a pointed look before turning back to face Marian, “they were directly from Prince John.  They were to aide James of Atherstone in any way possible.  When he gave to order to execute your father, it was an order that went against my conscience.”

“Please,” Robin snorted, “like you have one!”

“Contrary to popular belief,” Gisborne gave him a dark glare, “I do.”

“And do does that same conscience allow you to try to kill the King in the Holy Lands?!” Robin shouted, taking a step towards Gisborne, the fury that he had for the man igniting once more.

“Stay out of this Locksley!” Gisborne shouted back before facing Marian again, “Your father will not survive if you both are branded as outlaws.  I can provide that security…my offer still stands.”

Robin gritted his teeth in frustration as he stared between Marian and Gisborne.  He wanted to say something, to persuade Marian that whatever Gisborne was offering, which was probably marriage once more, he would be able to protect her with his life.  But he also knew that Gisborne was right in one aspect.  Edward Fitzwalter would not survived being branded an outlaw and Marian was very adamant about taking care of her father.  It was one of the things that frustrated him so much, yet he understood in others.  Yet…he didn’t want to lose Marian to Gisborne…not under such duress.

He saw Marian look towards her father who had a blank look on his face before he shook his head, “I’ve said my piece…it is your choice…”

As she swept her gaze back around, he caught her eyes and shook his head, knowing she could see the despair within him.  It pained him to see her like this…

“Robin!  They’re coming!” Much’s frantic pounding on the door and his muffled voice interrupted anything Marian was about to say and he moved towards the door, opening it.

In the distance, he could see the banners of Prince John’s men and the distinct Crusader uniform that James wore coming towards the manor.  “Get inside!” he called to his men as they took one more look at the advancing guards before coming inside.

“Master, what is he-“

He shook his head at Much’s question, his manservant staring at Gisborne, wondering whether or not he should attack him.  He took one more look outside before closing the door, nodding to Allan and Will to take up positions surrounding the windows, their bows drawn.

“We know you are in there Locksley!  Come out and I may show lenience towards your men!” James’ booming voice echoed throughout the open front yard of the manor, as Robin peered out of the window, standing next to Allan.

He counted around eight guards, not including James that followed him, all of them wearing the colors of Prince John’s guard.  He knew that there had to be more of the Prince’s guard and wondered if they had been subdued by Vaysey’s men…

It was then that Robin made his decision.  “Marian,” he called out, continuing to stare out of the window, “take your father and go out the back.  We’ll cover you from the backdoor to the stables.”

“If you think I’m leaving-“

“This is not the time to be arguing,” Robin said loudly, cutting her off before turning to face her, lowering his voice, “please…”

She looked at him, completely not convinced before he sighed and stepped away from the window.  He guided her away from the group, ignoring the look Gisborne was giving him and made sure that no one could see or hear them.  “If you stay and fight,” he whispered quietly, “Gisborne may find out who the Nightwatchman is.”

“But I burned all of my clothes,” she hissed back.

“Not good enough…he’s seen you fight at least twice now, am I correct?  Please…go.  We’ll head James’ men off.  We’ll bring him to justice and back to the Sheriff,” he said.

“And what if the Sheriff arrests you again?”

“I don’t think he will this time,” Robin gave her a small smile, remembering the time when they had saved Vaysey’s life from the Saracen assassins.  The priceless words from the Sheriff’s mouth, ‘business as usual tomorrow,’ reassured Robin that even though he had saved the Sheriff’s life this time around from James’ men, Vaysey would have to live up to that debt.

“Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” he wanted to lean in and kiss her, but knew that this was not the time or place for such romantic interests.

“Fine then,” she gave him a look before moving towards her father, quietly explaining to him what the plan was.

Robin turned to his men, “Split up, twos and threes, and we’ll meet up at the secondary hiding spot.”

They nodded, understanding what he was trying to do before he looked at Gisborne, “As for you…stay out of our way.  You come chasing after any of my men and we will shoot you on sight.”

“Sir Guy, my father will need your help,” Marian suddenly spoke up as she and her father moved towards the kitchens and to the back of the manor.  Robin stared at her incredulously before she gave him a simple look.  Sometimes he didn’t understand her at all and knew that if he ordered her not to have Gisborne by her side, she would never forgive him.

“Locksley!  Come out you coward!” James shouted again as they quietly stole through the kitchens and out to the stables, keeping low to the ground so they wouldn’t be spotted.

Suddenly Robin noticed that James was waving his men forward to surround the manor and halted, crouching in the tall long grasses that were on the manor’s property, right near the edges of Sherwood Forest.  The whole town of Locksley, while nearly surrounded by the forest, also provided multiple routes for escape, something he and his gang exploited on many occasions.  The gang also stopped, notching their bows or readying their weapons.

“Quickly!” he half whispered to Marian and her father, Gisborne following them as they disappeared into the stables.

“Steady,” he called out quietly to his men, “as soon as Marian and her father leave the stables, let loose your arrows then run towards the woods.  We have to make sure every single one of them follows us.”

They all nodded in agreement.  While they had only been a gang for the last few months, they had bonded like brothers - and sisters, he amended silently, and he knew that all of them considered Marian like a younger sister.

Suddenly a noise from the stables made Robin turn around to see Sir Edward riding out, Marian following close behind along with Gisborne.  He was a bit miffed that Gisborne took one of his horses, but then focused himself back on the task at hand.  Apparently James also noticed the disturbance because his face turned an ugly shade of purple with anger.

“After them!” he shouted to his soldiers.

“Now!” Robin cried out at the same time and he stood up from his crouched position and fired off his first arrow, hitting a soldier in the thigh, making him cry out in pain as he clutched his wounded leg and fell off his horse, unable to continue.  He quickly drew his second one in a split second and shot it off again, hitting another soldier in the arm just as one of Allan’s arrows found the soldier’s shin, toppling the hapless man off his horse.

As he and his men slowly made their way to the edges of the trees of Sherwood, his eyes suddenly widened in fear as he saw James reach behind him and pull out a crossbow.  Everything seemed to slow down for Robin as he saw that it was fully loaded and not pointed at him, but at Marian who hadn’t glanced back and instead was concentrating on getting her father and herself to safety.

“Marian!” he screamed her name, making her turn around, just as Gisborne did too, only too late as James fired off the bolt towards her.

He watched, anguish and horror filling him as he saw the bolt rip into her shoulder, surprise and pain briefly filling her beautiful porcelain face before she collapsed onto her horse.  It was then that time sped up once more.

“Marian!  No!!” his legs moved of their own accord as he ran towards her, but suddenly arms engulfed him, holding him back.  “No!!  Let me go!” he struggled against the arms, wanting to go to the still retreating form of Marian, to whom Gisborne was now riding next to her horse, half holding onto her unconscious body, half guiding her horse down the road.

“Let her go, Robin!” Djaq shouted into his ear, “We need to go!”

“No!” Robin fought harder before a painful blow to his stomach from Little John made the red haze that had fallen over his eyes when he saw Marian shot, disappear.

“Let’s go…” Little John’s gruff face filled his vision and he numbly nodded before Djaq and Much let him go.

They headed into the forest, shooting a few more arrows to entice James’ men while felling a couple more.

“After the outlaws!  I want their heads!” James yelled and Robin felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Master, let’s go,” Much called to him as he stepped backwards, all the while staring at James who had a ruthless smile on his face as he wheeled his horse towards the forest, intent on following them after his men.

Robin raised his chin silently at James, challenging him, his eyes narrowed before he stepped further back into the forest and followed Much.  He deliberately kept his pace slower than his friend’s and before long, made sure that Much was a bit ahead of him before he turned to another path through the woods and stopped.  He knew that James was going to follow him; after all, the man was sadistic and enjoyed inflicting pain onto others.

He knew that James knew he was setting up a trap, and baiting him, but Robin was beyond caring at the moment.  The sick bastard had shot and wounded Marian, how fatal or non-fatal, he didn’t know, but all he knew was that James was not going to live past today.

The soft hoof beats of a horse approaching told Robin that James had arrived, yet he didn’t turn around, and instead fingered his bow, his arrow pack having been dumped to the ground minutes before.  “There is a rumor going around Nottingham and London that you are weak.  You despise bloodshed because you have changed during your years in the Holy Lands, Robin of Locksley,” James slowly and Robin heard him dismount his horse before he heard the sharp metallic twang of a broadsword being drawn.

“A rumor,” Robin fingered his bow, staring at the ground, his thoughts dark and clouded.

“You were always too soft-hearted Locksley.  Even in the Holy Lands; saving those pitiful heathens,” James sneered.

“I should have killed you when I first met you,” Robin said in a conversational tone before he dropped his bow to the ground and quickly drew out his curved Saracen sword.

He spun around and met James’ broadsword in a parry before breaking it with a circular swipe and lunged at the man.  James danced back before swinging his sword around for another swipe at him to which Robin ducked low to the ground.  He lashed out with his free arm and pulled the man’s leg, making him stumble and fall down the higher ground he was on.

Wasting no time, Robin jumped down after him and tried an overhand chop towards the other man’s head.  A flash of steel and sparks flew from the contact and Robin had to duck to the side to avoid the longer broadsword’s blade.  He stepped back, carefully looking at James as they circled each other in the leaf-fallen wooded area.

He flourished his sword a couple of times, a merciless smile on his face.  He could feel the darker side of himself rise up to the surface, telling him to kill James, to hurt the man for what he had done to Marian.  To take all of the injustices done to him in the past few days and right them.  To destroy this man who had no heart; a heart that was destroyed.

“Fighting with a heathen sword?  What happened to your English pride?” James sneered at him.

“Still here, mate,” Robin replied sarcastically before giving a war cry as he surged forward.

He hacked and slashed at James, who blocked and parried while backing up but just as suddenly, lunged at him with the sword.  Robin barely got out of the way and hissed in pain as the tip of the sword tore through his clothes and cut part of his arm.  He ignored the pain and pushed his own blade against the broadsword, forcing it away from him he charged forward, intent on repaying James for the minor wound.

“You should have stayed back in Acre, Atherstone!” he yelled as he kicked a handful of dirt into the man’s face who spluttered.  Robin wasted no time and lunged forward again.

“And you should have died back then!” James shot back, barely bringing his sword up in time to cut off his attack.

James broke the attack with a swift punch towards Robin’s face and he leaned back, avoiding the blow, but went off balance and stumbled and fell to the forest floor.  He brought his sword up across his chest to prevent a slash down towards him, catching the blade with bone-jarring force.

Robin gritted his teeth as he pushed against the weight James was throwing upon him before he suddenly lashed out, knocking James’ feet out from him.  The Crusader fell to the ground with a surprise shout and Robin scrambled to his feet.  He quickly kicked the broadsword away from the man’s left hand, sending it skittering away before pointing his sword at his exposed throat, the curvature of the blade reflecting the chain-mail armor James wore.

“I will kill you,” Robin said in a deadly quiet and simple tone, his eyes blazing with anger, the darkness that he had so long tried to purge from within him taking over his whole body and soul.  This man had threatened him, lied to him, hurt or even perhaps killed his beloved…and if Marian was dead, he truly had nothing else to live for…

He raised his sword up and over his head, ready to chop James’ head away from his body.  Swinging downwards, he could see the blade singing towards the Crusader’s exposed neck, the horror in James’ eyes—

“Robin, no!” Much’s anguished cry halted the blade’s path, only centimeters away from cutting the skin.

Robin looked back, his eyes blazing in fury, angry at Much who had the gall to stop him from doing what had to be done.  “Why did you stop me?” he asked, his voice frozen cold.

“Master…please…don’t do this.  I don’t want you to become the Crusader you once were,” Much stood a bit away from him, his hands empty, tears falling down his eyes.  A few feet beyond him, the others were running towards Much, apparently having already disposed of James’ other men.  “Don’t turn into someone like Lord James again…”

                                    *                      *                      *

Much hoped his master could see the desperation in his eyes as he stared plaintively at Robin.  He had only see the last few blows exchanged between his master and Sir James and immediately had recognized all the signs of what his master had done.  He had hoped never to see such a side again, a far more dangerous side than anyone could have imagined.  It was worst than what he had seen when Robin thought Marian was dead only two weeks ago…worst than when he found out Guy of Gisborne was responsible for his near-fatal wound.

This was the Robin that he rarely saw.  The Robin who unleashed his full anger upon those that had wronged him, the part where when he snapped, he would be drunk with bloodlust.  He had only seen it once or twice in the battlefield, but Much was always close enough to recognize the symptoms.  Between him and Tomas of Rufford, it was an effort to calm Robin back down after the few episodes on the battlefield.

“Please…” he whispered, hoping his words were getting to his master.

He and Robin stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Much saw something spark within his master and hope filled him.  He saw the curved sword in his master’s hand shake slightly before Robin looked down at the blade, the blade that served as a stark reminder of his last ‘episode’.

The curved blade lowered away from James’ throat and to the ground before his master seemed to sag from an unseen weight.  “You’re right…thank you Much,” Robin looked at him with a sad smile, his voice grateful and Much nearly collapsed onto the ground as he knew that he had gotten through to his master.

Suddenly time seemed to slow down and Much watched with horrified eyes as a hidden dagger abruptly appeared in James’ hand and he lunged upwards from the ground towards Robin.

“MASTER!” Much screamed.

                                    *                      *                      *

“MASTER!”

Robin instinctively turned as his friend screamed and thrust his sword into James’ chest as the man lunged at him from the ground, a hidden dagger in his right hand.  His eyes widened in horror as he saw his blade pierce the man’s weakened chain-mail armor and cut through him, stopping him in mid movement.

James choked slightly, his eyes widening as blood spilt out of the corner of his lips, the dagger falling from his limp hand.  The man didn’t say anything as he choked a few times before his eyes dimmed and his body fell completely limp.

Robin blinked a few times, his mind still comprehending what had just happened, his hands instinctively lowering the body still skewered to his sword before pulling it out with a wet sucking sound.  The ironic thought that it was so like James of Atherstone to pull such a last-ditch attack on him floated across his mind but he quickly banished it away, saddened that it had to come to something like this.

Looking to the others, he noticed that their looks were not of horror as he had predicted, but they were of understanding.  They understood and realized what had happened, what must be done and while Robin knew that perhaps they didn’t forgive him for trying to break their no-kill policy, they understood that this instinctive reaction was just that, instinctive.

As he sheathed his sword once more, noting that he would have to clean it later when they got back to camp before the blood ate away at the metal and rust started to form he walked towards the others, a serious look on his face.  He was grateful for all of them staying by him, even when things got harried and out of his control – he could never ask for better friends than the five that were part of his gang.

“Don’t mean to be funny, but it’s finally over, right?” Allan asked, still gingerly leaning on one foot.

“For now, yes,” Robin replied, clapping the other man on the shoulder as they walked back to camp.

                                    *                      *                      *

_Epilogue_

 

**_June 21, 1192_ **

 

**NOTTINGHAM** **CASTLE**

 

Sheriff Vaysey had a lazy smile on his face as he dipped his falcon-feathered quill into the ink bottle before taking it out and scribbling some more on the piece of official parchment he had in front of him.  He sat in the great hall of the castle, softly humming an aimless tune.  But that did not mean he did not hear the soft booted feet of his Master-at-Arms or right hand man come into the great hall, walking quietly down the stairs.

“Ah, Gisborne, good, you’re here,” Vaysey said, without look up before carelessly gesturing to a letter that was sitting by his own parchment, the seal of Prince John already broken and half of the parchment was rolled up messily.  “Read that.”

He heard Gisborne pick up the parchment and read it.  After a few seconds, the man spoke up, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier there was a second parchment along with the first one that you’ve received from the messenger days ago?”

Vaysey looked up and gave him a broad grin, “Because, I needed your reaction to be genuine.”

“But, sire…I was under orders to kill you,” Gisborne looked a bit put-out.

“Blah-di-blah-di-blah,” Vaysey waved away his concerns, “Of course you were.  But I always have a plan in place.  Four of my most trusted nobles were ready to spring into action if things didn’t go as planned.”

“You planned it?!”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I had hoped Atherstone would have gotten rid of Hood at the same time, but you couldn’t hope for much.”  He then gestured to the large money bag that had been sitting next to the letter, “The Prince says half of that is yours in lieu of payment for your lands once more.  Apparently he wants them back for farming and garrison purposes.”

“I noticed that’s what the letter said,” Gisborne replied flatly and the Sheriff’s smile got wider.

“Come now Gisborne.  You really didn’t expect this whole charade to really be real, did you?”

He saw the man work his mouth a few times, wanting to say something, before he finally fell silent, glaring at the money bag.

“You can go buy your little Marian something to sooth her wounds, can’t you now?” he waved Gisborne away, “shoo now…I’m just finishing my report to our dearly beloved Prince.”

He looked back down on his report and scribbled something quickly on the parchment before he heard Gisborne walk away, this time his steps loud and angry.  Vaysey snorted silently before chuckling to himself.  “Lepers Gisborne…lepers…”

                                    *                      *                      *

**KNIGHTON HALL**

 

Climbing to Marian’s window was always a feat of acrobatics, especially since he didn’t want to be seen by her father.  But he had long mastered the climb and quietly slipped to the side of her roof.  “Marian,” he whispered, knocking gently on the wooden frame.

He smiled as he saw her appear a few seconds later, peering out to look at him, her left arm in a sling, holding it in place as she was still healing from the bolt that had dug itself into her shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be here in broad daylight!” she whispered, looking out to see if any of the Sheriff’s spies were around.

“I wanted to see you,” he replied, leaning against the frame, a happy smile on his face.  He was glad that she was all right and found out just a day ago that Gisborne had lead her father and her safely to Knighton Hall before calling for his own personal physician to tend to her wound.  He was a bit irked about that part, but his relief at the fact that she wasn’t seriously wounded by James outweighed the annoyance he felt for Gisborne.

“I’m not a dainty teacup you know,” she smirked back at him.

“I know, but that still doesn’t mean I can visit, can I?” he leaned closer, hoping to steal a kiss from her, but the wooden bars on her window occasionally prevented that.

“You only visit if you want something from me,” Marian teased him, “Especially when you climb the window.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” he grinned before his expression got a bit more serious, “in all seriousness, Marian…are you sure you’re okay?”

Her smile slowly disappeared as she nodded before looking away, “My father is still shocked at what has happened, but he’s taking the time to recover.  And he was especially surprised at Sir Guy’s…actions.”

“Saving you and saving him,” Robin sighed.

“He’s a good man, Robin.  Underneath it all, I think he’s has…qualities…” she said and Robin shook his head.

“I still don’t believe it,” he replied roughly, “he nearly killed the King.  Deceived you, and still tried to kill me on top of all that!”

She shook her head and sighed, “I…don’t know what to think right now Robin…please, don’t let me think about what’s happened between Sir Guy and me.”

“Fine…” he replied after a few seconds of silence, not wanting to see her distressed look anymore.

“I heard…about what happened to Sir James,” she said after a few minutes of silence, save for the occasional chirping of the birds.

“I should have spotted the trouble the man was going to make as soon as I caught him our trap,” Robin was still kicking himself for believing in the good in people when he should have realized that James was as corrupt as Prince John, Sheriff Vaysey, and Gisborne all combined together.  Why and how did he get himself distracted by James’ flowery words were still beyond him.

“See,” Marian said in a knowing tone, making him stare at her in puzzlement, “you and I are alike.”

“How?”

“We both want to see the good in everyone before we pass judgment,” she replied before a playful smile started to work its way back up her face, “however, I have already passed judgment upon you long before.”

“Oh?” he didn’t miss the meaning behind her words earlier, but decided to play along this time, “and what is that?”

“You need to still grow up.”

He wrinkled his brow, “Ow…”

“Now, if you don’t mind…doctor’s orders are for me to stay in bed for a while,” she made a move to close the shutters on her window before he reached out and grabbed her free hand.

“Just one more kiss?” he asked, hopeful.

She shook his hand off and gave him a small smile, “Anything for you.”

She then brought her hand up and blew him a kiss before closing the shutters on his face, leaving him shaking his head in amusement.

 

~END~

 

**Author’s Notes:**

            Some tidbits about the ending: My beta reader pointed out that the ending was a bit jarring, like bipolar, and I told her that there were two specific _Robin Hood_ episodes that did the exact same thing: the episode where Roy dies, and the episode where Robin finds out about Gisborne’s scar.  Those two had the most jarring endings to such serious tone.

Anyways, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this story and look forward to more that I will hopefully be posting in the near future.  This story started out with me musing about Crusader!Robin and what would happen if he encountered some of his fellow Crusaders that he actually knew instead of someone like Harold.  Also, I really like the name James, but instead of casting it on a good-guy character, I wanted my James to be evil and conniving as hell.

Oh yes, to answer any lingering questions, yes James was being set up by Prince John.  However, James wasn’t told of this and instead was being told to set up the Sheriff.  Seems like Prince John has a few loose ends he wants to tie up – oh wait…that’s another story idea my muses are poking at.  Heh.  I’m hoping my next offering will probably be Allan-centric, but we’ll see.  I actually have a series of stories set out from this one that will follow a pseudo-season 2 of Robin Hood of my own.

And final note, shameless plug, but if you’ve enjoyed this story a lot and like my writing style, please don’t hesitate to check out my other offerings to various fandoms. 


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